Roads
by UKnowSynMakesUWannaScream
Summary: The sequel to Walls. Matts journey through recovery.
1. Roads chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
Amy walked down the stairs. The house was finally quiet. It was about time. She headed for the coffee maker thinking ruefully about her first night home.  
  
She hadn't been home half an hour with Shane before she had begun complaining about how bad she felt. After a few hours of trying to unpack and settle everything in while being forced to listen to Amy whine, Shane finally told her to check her temperature and found it to be a little high. He dosed her up on Tylenol and told her to lie in bed.  
  
Chris had called from the plane. For some reason he'd felt it necessary to give him the lowdown on how terrible his trip was going. He'd told him Matt had been sick 100% of the trip. The car had been bad enough; the plane was just about killing him. Shane bit back the "well you might have given him some Dramamine" comment that was on the tip of his tongue. He didn't need to know how much easier it could have been. Added to that, he'd told him that Jeff was a basket case. Couldn't get comfortable, couldn't take Matt being sick at all. He was just coming unglued. Top it off, the only one of them who wasn't sick and was acting human had gotten disgusted with all of them and went to sit by himself. Chris had laughed when he told Shane.  
  
"Shane, he just finally looked up, slammed his book, told us 'you people suck!,' got up and went and sat in the back of the plane." Shane sympathized with him and made all of the appropriate noises and finally ended the call.  
  
He thought about what he'd said and applauded Adam. He knew how he felt. "You people suck" wandered through his mind. He liked that. It just said what it had to.  
  
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Adam gently moved Amy's feet and curled up on the end of the couch. He smiled a little when she simply stretched them out in his lap again. He didn't mind. Maybe it would help him warm up. He'd wrapped himself up in a quilt and still he was cold. Sore throat started, too, and it was damn near impossible to breathe through his nose. Figures. He'd felt a little off all day pretty much since they'd hit the airport and so had Jeff, he knew. He hadn't said much about it seeing how tightly wound Chris was getting over the other two. He'd really hoped that if he ignored it, it would just go away. Now seeing that everyone at home had the flu, he'd resigned himself to the inevitable. He almost had to laugh. All the strain, all of the tension and anxiety of the last few weeks and he'd held out fine. Now, home not yet an hour, he was already sick. He figured he was pretty well set up though. He'd gotten his quilt, his juice, and had a roll of toilet paper spindled over his thumb. Barring a crisis, he had no reason to get up, not even for a tissue. He looked around marveling at the contentment he felt at being here. He'd missed being home. The peace he was feeling, looking around him now, couldn't be disturbed even by the flu. It was better for them here. Maybe this was all for the best. He let his gaze wander to Matt asleep on the floor in front of the TV. That was his spot. He never sat on a chair if the spot in front of the TV was free. Nice to see him there again. Sad that it had happened this way, but still.He smiled a little and let himself drift off.  
  
Matt's fingers played absently with the strings of the carpet. He'd staggered into the house, flung himself belly down on the living room rug in front of the TV, and refused to move again. Thank god, everything was finally holding still. He hadn't even been able to focus on the TV. His head had been spinning so badly. He'd dozed off and the dizziness had passed while he slept. He felt better now and was seriously thinking that he'd like to go get a pillow if only it didn't involve the climb up the stairs. He was beat. He rolled over onto his back and his eyes lit on Adam. He stretched out a leg and poked him with a toe. "Hey."  
  
Adam jumped; he had been dozing. "Hey. You're up! You feeling better?" Matt sat up carefully. Moving too fast screwed up his eyes. "Yeah, I think so. You look like you aren't though. What's wrong?" Adam, he thought, looked like hell. Adam snorted and waved a hand around. "The air is contaminated. Unless you stop breathing, you're next." Matt stared at him blankly. He was having trouble connecting. "Adam?" Adam raised his eyebrows. "Yes?" "What are you talking about?"  
  
Adam sighed. He knew Matt couldn't help it but he just never *got* anything anymore. It was beginning to be a major irritant. Matt's wit had always been so sharp. He'd always been quick to get just about any joke and grasp any situation however subtle. Now, if it wasn't spelled out in front of him in big block letters he just didn't understand. "I just mean everyone's sick, Matt. Amy has the flu. I know Jeff was fixing to get sick. That's why he was so damn whiney all day. And my head's about to drop off. We should have known. It always happens the second we slow down for a minute." Matt made a face and shifted his gaze to Amy. She looked really tired even in sleep.  
  
Matt scowled and scooted over to lean his back against the couch. He wanted to get up but things were jumping around alarmingly. He scowled then leaned his head back against Adam who patted his shoulder comfortingly. "What's the matter, Matt? Why are you so ticked off?" Matt shrugged a little. "My head feels really weird. Things are like.blinking." Adam nodded. He'd heard it before. Matt had been complaining about this for a day or so. God knew it had to be irritating. "Don't worry, Matt. You know they told you it would go away." Matt shook his head. "No, Adam, this is different. I can't describe it. But I don't like it." He muttered to himself for a moment and then climbed to his feet. "I'm freezing. I'm gonna go get a blanket IF I can get upstairs. You want anything while I'm up?" Adam laughed. "NO. You'll use all your strength to get yourself up and down the stairs in one piece." Matt shot him a look that let Adam know how amusing he found that comment and cuffed him lightly. "You shut up, you couldn't do any better." Adam laughed and waved him away. "Yeah, good luck. If I hear a crash, I'll be sure to go pick you up."  
  
Matt's gaze rested on his friend for a moment. He thought Adam was trying to be funny but whatever he'd said had flown out of his mind already. Sighing, he headed for the stairs holding on to the wall for support. Things still flickered madly just on the edge of his sight line. He wished he knew when he could expect that "effect" to go away. It was making it very difficult to get around. He made his way down the hall, eyes lingering on familiar objects. God, he'd missed home. He was so glad to be back. Why was he back? He paused for a moment unable for the most fleeting of seconds to remember where he'd been, what he'd been doing, or why he felt he'd been gone from here. He stood, fingers lightly brushing the wall, waiting for memory to return. He'd already learned not to force it. A moment later, recall. His eyes filled with tears as he thought about all that had happened. He didn't know what he was going to do to fix this. It was all such a mess. Swiping at his eyes, he changed his course now heading for the bathroom to find something to wipe his eyes and blow his nose with. Dust motes floating on a beam of sunlight captured his attention and he stood lost in their golden dance.  
  
A slight tug at his hand broke Matt's trance. He sniffed loudly and looked down into the face of Amy, her already pink cheeks flushed to near scarlet. "Whatcha looking at, Matt?" she questioned, her hands dropping limply down to her sides. "Huh?" For the life of him he couldn't place her. Her thoughtful eyes searched his confused brown ones for just a moment.  
  
"I just asked what you were staring at. You've been standing there forever." He goggled at her, the effort of trying to retrieve her name almost painful. His eyes found the sunlight again, the glow pulling him away from her. Exasperated, she yanked on his sleeve. "Matt!" her voice was sharp. "Cut it out. It's creepy." Annoyed, he turned on her. "Look." and then it came to him.  
  
Amy. That was it. A rush of relief flooded through Matt and he had to hold back the urge to shout her name. Giddy now having remembered her name he said, "Sorry, Amy, I'm spacey. I know. I'll try to stop it." She nodded.  
  
"Where were you going?" He thought for a minute. "Upstairs, I think." She eyed him critically, hands on her hips and then shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think you'll make it on your own. Come on." Sighing, she held out her hand to him. Amused that she would think he needed to be led, yet bitterly aware that she was probable correct, he took her hand and let himself be led upstairs.  
  
***A/N: Sorry it took so long for this post! Read and review. More to come!*** 


	2. Roads chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
Matt stood at the bottom of the stairs gazing wistfully towards the top. Amy tugged at his hand impatient with him. "Come on, Matt, it's just ten stairs. Not Mt. Everest." He looked at her wondering if she had any idea. He shook his head and sighed. "Amy, ten steps is a mountain. Trust me."  
  
He looked up the stairs again then down into her eyes and nodded. Slowly he started negotiating the first step. As he climbed up, his head spun and he nearly toppled backwards. "Well, crap," he muttered aloud. He glanced up sighing almost pitifully and then began to again ascend the stairs in the only way he could see fit to get him to the top with the guarantee that he wouldn't fall and kill himself...on all fours. He paused at the top sitting on the landing, wondering if climbing back upright was such a good idea. The way his head was spinning, he could see himself going right back to the bottom of the stairs in a heap. Deciding that a compromise was the best solution, he crawled a few feet away from the landing and hauled himself to his feet. He looked at Amy who was sticking like glue to his side. "I'll make it now, Amy, thanks." She looked doubtful but nodded. "If you really think so. Yell if you need help." She wandered off to her own room.  
  
Matt pulled himself along the wall toward his room. Whatever he'd come up here for was now a distant memory. All he wanted was to throw himself into bed and sleep for a year. As he dragged himself through the bedroom door, he heard the unmistakable sound of an IM ding coming from his computer. Jeff was sitting, back towards the door, at the computer desk.  
  
"Whatcha doing, Jeff?" Matt asked from his position in the doorway. Jeff jumped, startled, then groaned as pain seared through him. His ribs ached abominably. "Nothing. Just online cause I can't sleep. I'm too sore. I can't breathe. I keep coughing. I feel like I'm gonna throw up." "Geez, Jeff, anything else? You trying for a world record?" Matt staggered across the room to the computer, his elbows resting on the desk.  
  
Jeff, somewhat annoyed at the lack of sympathy for his misery, turned away from the monitor and gave Matt a look somewhat crossed between a "what do you want" and a "what the hell are you doing" glare. "Think you could get off the desk? It's a little hard to type with your elbows on the keyboard." Matt shrugged. "Got to hold myself up with something." Jeff rolled his eyes.  
  
"Whatever," he muttered and turned his attention back to the keyboard. Unfortunately for him Matt showed no signs of moving. "Who you talking to? And why are you using my screen name? You didn't read my mail did you?" Suddenly Matt who had been in a semi decent mood before felt himself growing irritated. "No, I didn't read your stupid mail. I just used your name cause it was the first one that came up, geez. Excuse me."  
  
Jeff's sarcasm hit a nerve. "Well, next time use your own damn screen name. That's what it's there for." Matt used the desk to haul himself the rest of the way up and walked, somewhat dazed by the rush of dizziness that swept over him, towards his bed. "What's the big deal? Afraid one of your little online girlfriends will like me better than you?" Jeff smirked. "I don't have any online girlfriends..." Matt cut himself off. Jeff's snotty tone was just too much for him. "Why am I even answering you? Just get off my name and get on your own." He turned to get his blanket off the bed, thought better of it, and flopped down onto it instead.  
  
Jeff stared at him for a minute. He was just too pissed off. He really didn't know why but the urge to just whip something at Matt was almost too much for him. It was Matt's fault they were back home. It was Matt's fault their careers were on hold. For all he knew it was Matt's fault he had the flu. And it was definitely Matt's fault that he couldn't move without something hurting. He'd had all he could take of his brother's face after the nightmare trip home. He knew he was being unfair but he really didn't care. He'd been so happy. Stopping and going home wasn't something he'd ever wanted to do. He knew it wasn't really Matt's fault but exhaustion, trauma, and illness had all combined to sap his patience and turn his usually sunny disposition sour and gloomy.  
  
"Aren't you going back downstairs?" he asked in an exasperated tone. Matt cracked open an eye. "In a minute. Resting up for the journey back down. Got a problem with it?" Scowling and restraining himself from giving the smart-ass comment that head risen to his lips, Jeff turned back to the screen. He typed in a response to Matt's friend who he'd neglected to inform of his identity and found himself pondering the name his brother was using. He didn't like it. Glancing back at Matt, he saw that his brother's eyes were closed. Good. He quickly signed off and onto Chris' name, glancing again at Matt to see if he'd noticed the log on tone. Nope. Still just lying there. He keyed into their screen names, pulled up Matt's, and smirking for all he was worth reached for the "delete" key. Just as he was about to press it, he paused. Glancing at Matt who now appeared to be sound asleep, he thought back to the last time he'd messed with his stuff. Sure, he thought this was funny, and a few months ago would have done it with not even a second thought, but the persistent ache in his side was a grim reminder that this was not his Matt. This was not the Matt he could play with. This Matt was potentially dangerous. Sighing, he exited the screen and logged back on this time to his own name. He surfed for a while, his sights finally landing on a site full of rumors about him and his friends. Within minutes he was thoroughly engrossed, forgetting his flu, forgetting his ribs, and ignoring the nagging cough that nothing seemed to get rid of.  
  
Matt was very nearly dozing when he heard Jeff's muffled laugh followed by a burst of coughing. Somehow he didn't like the sound of either. He opened his eyes and peered in Jeff's direction but he couldn't make out what he was doing. He was hacking his head off though and it was annoying. He stared absently at him for a while lacking the energy to get up and see what was going on. A renewed burst of giggles from Jeff got him motivated. "He's having way too much fun for a sick kid and he's on my name..." he thought. "He's humiliating me, I'm sure..." sighing he dragged himself out of bed and headed for Jeff. He'd just about reached him when Jeff suddenly doubled over coughing violently. Matt grabbed him just as he was about to fall out of the chair.  
  
Jeff had never even seen it coming. He was so engrossed in the website that he had forgotten his flu and forgotten that Matt was even in the room. His nagging cough had barely penetrated his consciousness. When it suddenly went from a barely noticed irritant to a debilitating attack. He wasn't ready for it and it nearly threw him onto the floor. He couldn't stop coughing to take a breath and his face began to go an alarming dusky purple. He didn't notice that Matt had caught him. He didn't realize anything beyond his panicky struggle to breathe. His nails dug into Matt's arm, bringing thin blood. Matt winced but he didn't let go. He was getting scared now. He didn't know if it was possible to cough yourself to death but he was afraid Jeff might just be about to test it. He tightened his hold on him, pulling him in close to his body. He just knew he couldn't let him go. He was scared. When Jeff's color started to darken to gray, he knew they were in trouble. He hollered the first name that came to his mind. "ADAM!!!"  
  
Adam was arguing with Shane. He was losing the argument and was considerably less than pleased about it when he heard Matt's yell. Hearing the panic in it, he was on his feet and up the stairs in an instant. Shane on his heels. He burst into the room to find a terrified Matt, arms wrapped tight around Jeff who appeared to be choking to death. He hadn't taken a step when the coughing spell suddenly let up. Jeff sagged in Matt's arms gasping for breath, eyes streaming.  
  
He was shaking all over and Matt was afraid if he let him go he'd fall. More than a little shaken, he shot Adam a "help me" look and Adam nodded, taking Jeff away from him and leading him to Matt's bed. Matt, feeling about as shaken up as Jeff, sank down into the nearest chair. The thought that, no matter where they were home or on the road they were still just falling apart, wouldn't leave his mind. He watched Jeff struggling to catch his breath and couldn't help wondering when or if things would finally be back to normal.  
  
***A/N: Well it's been awhile! From now on I will try to post quicker! Read and review please!*** 


	3. Roads chapter 3

***A/N: I had the pleasure of meeting Matt Hardy Sunday. He was signing autographs at the Greenville grrrowl hockey game and he was as sweet as could be! Alright on with the story!***  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
Adam was scowling. He'd been home less than half a day and he was already sitting in a doctor's waiting room. He didn't know why he had to come. Chris had said he could use a hand and had asked him to come along but so far all he'd done was sit and vainly attempt to focus his burning eyes on whatever year old magazine was close at hand. Why they had to be here now was a mystery. Amy and her earache along with Jeff and his cough needed a doctor. Evidently the doctor had agreed and here they were. Amy had been seen, diagnosed, and prescripted within half an hour. Now they were waiting for Jeff to finish talking with the doctor. He sighed and gave up on the magazine flinging it in the general direction of the table. He glanced at Amy. He sat back and closed his eyes.  
  
"Adam, are you okay?" Amy's voice penetrated the fog that was surrounding him and Adam focused bleary eyes on her face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Amy laughed, "You looked like you were falling asleep. Were you?" He shifted his weight trying to get comfortable. Everything was starting to ache.  
  
"Were you?" His head was buzzing unpleasantly and starting to spin. "Really getting sick, oh yeah..." floated through his head. "Adam, were you?!!" The repetitive question he'd been ignoring suddenly snapped his patience. "Amy, what?! Will you go away please?! God!!! NO!! I wasn't asleep!"  
  
She scowled at him ready to come back with a dig of her own but he dropped his head into his hands and she heard him groan softly. Her irritation was suddenly replaced with worry. "Adam? Adam, I'm sorry. Are you okay? Really?" She shook him a little and he looked up at her. "Yeah, Amy, I'm getting sick though. I'm sorry I yelled at you." She nodded not really caring if he'd yelled at her.  
  
"Adam, what's the matter?" He shook his head. "Nothing, Amy, it's okay. Getting the flu, that's all. Where in the hell is Chris? And Jeff? What are we waiting for?" Amy shrugged. "I don't know."  
  
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Some sound woke her. She lay in the dark for a few minutes trying to figure out what was out of place. Hearing nothing unusual, she was about to dismiss it and go back to sleep when it suddenly hit her. The TV. She was hearing the TV at...she turned to the clock on the nightstand...3 am? Who on earth was up watching TV at this hour? She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could, pulled on a robe, and tiptoed downstairs. She was pretty sure she knew who she'd find.  
  
Matt heard someone coming. He knew it would be her. Somehow, she always knew when to come around and when to keep back. She always knew when to listen. He wished he'd realized sooner that the times she came around were the times he needed to listen to her, too. He smiled a little when he felt her hand brush against his hair and slid over so she could sit with him pulling up the edge of his blanket to share it with her. As soon as she settled, he moved closer leaning his head on her shoulder. She slipped an arm around him surprised and pleased at the affection. "What's the matter, baby?" she asked softly, "why can't you sleep?" He sighed and shook his head a little. "I don't know. I'm all achy and my heads all stuffed up. Can't get comfortable. Jeff's coughing his brains out and Adam's throwing up. It's too noisy in there. And besides..." again the bitter sigh. "I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Y'know." She nodded. She knew. "That's going to go away, Matt. You know that. Just hang on." He nodded. They'd told him to be patient. It wasn't easy. He snuggled closer to her, absurdly close to tears. It had been so long since he'd felt like anyone even like him. His head was just all screwed up.  
  
Amy felt him trembling a little, heard his breathing become ragged, and knew he was crying. She didn't say anything. He'd talk if he wanted to. She didn't want to push him. It had been too long since he'd been this open with her. She didn't want to bring his walls up. She held him a little tighter and kissed his hair. She half expected him to pull away but instead his arm came up around her. Sweet nostalgia. She held him close hoping he'd talk to her and tell her what he was feeling but also content to let him take what he needed from her.  
  
Matt wasn't sure why he was crying and he really didn't care. It was enough that she was holding him. That she loved him. That she wasn't criticizing or judging or watching him. That right now she didn't care if he was sitting up straight or if his clothes were neat or his hair brushed or his demeanor acceptable. He had nothing to prove and she wasn't asking anything of him. Her arms were around him and her hand stroking his hair. Felt good. Soothing. Right now he could just be. As the warmth and sleepiness crept in, his tears tapered off and he began to drift.  
  
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Adam was not happy. He'd finally fallen asleep after what just may have been the most miserable night of his life and some twit had decided to leave the TV on to wake him up again. He'd gone to bed early feeling too nasty to want to be around people. He'd woken up after about half an hour because he couldn't breathe and had spent hours tossing and turning trying to find a comfortable position for all of his aches. He was freezing, sweating, and thoroughly fed up with the whole thing. Added to that was Jeff who just couldn't breathe. He'd come home from the doctor's office with enough medications to sink a rather large ship but still couldn't manage to lie down without falling into a coughing fit. He was fine while he sat up but as he whined fairly continuously to Adam, he couldn't sleep unless he was lying down. Adam felt for him but right now just wished he'd shut up. Just when he'd thought it couldn't get any worse, his stomach had started acting up. He'd fought it for a while not wanting to be sick, but finally decided he'd get more rest if he just got it over with. Bad idea. Once he started throwing up, he couldn't stop. Now not only was he awake, he was awake sitting on a cold floor. He'd started swearing after two hours and, finally fed up beyond endurance, had flat out refused to let it happen again. He'd fight it until it killed him but he was going to bed. End of discussion. He'd managed to our stubborn his recalcitrant body, swallowing half a bottle of Nyquil and grimly forcing it to stay put. He'd finally fallen asleep and now the TV was on. He tried to ignore it and go back to sleep but periodic bloodcurdling screams wafting up the stairs were making it a real challenge. Sighing and wondering how much of him would self-destruct when he stood up, he climbed out of bed and started downstairs to shut the damn thing off. He held onto the walls going down the hall feeling very much as if he was made of Jell-O. Every muscle in his body ached and he dearly wanted to squish whoever had left the TV on forcing him to take this hike.  
  
Adam stumbled into the living room and stopped in the doorway when he saw Amy and Matt asleep on the sofa. Oh, well now isn't that sweet he thought bitterly. I'm up there puking my guts out and they're watching the Love Boat. Grimacing at the stiffness in his legs he limped his way over towards the TV set. For a moment he stood, mesmerized at the movement on the TV screen. Shaking his head, he broke his trance. Suddenly a thought crept into his mind. Grabbing the remote control that had been discarded on the coffee table, he held his finger poised above the volume button. Should I? For a moment Adam considered just flipping the TV off and going back to bed to salvage what was left of the night. Amy and Matt looked so peaceful wrapped in each other's arms and he felt just a small stab of guilt. However, his guilt was overridden by a horrible yet unrestrainable desire to make them as miserable as he was. His finger deftly pressed the up arrow next to the word volume. He watched the marks on the television rise to about mid screen. Then he removed his finger and checked the two sleeping beauties' reactions. Nothing. Frowning and creasing his brow, he pushed the button again. Still no reaction. Finally he just slammed his finger on the remote and watched the volume marks go to the end of the screen. The sound was almost deafening. Amy jumped. Her abrupt movement caused Matt, who was laying half on top of her, to fall off the sofa and he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.  
  
"What the..." Matt didn't move for a moment, still a little stunned from his tumble. "ADAM! TURN THAT DOWN!" Adam snickered and turned the TV down. "Oops, sorry. In the dark all these dang buttons look alike."  
  
"Why the heck...OWW!" Matt, who had begun to sit up, grabbed his head where he had banged it on the coffee table. Rubbing his sore cranium and muttering under his breath, he moved away from the table and stood. "Thanks a lot, Amy. Appreciate it," Matt said sarcastically. "I'm sorry. I wasn't really expecting to be woken up by a blaring TV at," she glanced at the iridescent face of her watch, "4:30 in the morning." "Gee...what a coincidence. Neither was I!" Adam snapped. Amy looked both puzzled and annoyed. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Adam gestured toward the TV. "That. You guys are so inconsiderate. I'm dying up there. All I want to do is go to sleep and you have the TV down here blasting away." Matt snorted. "Blasting, right. I was like sound asleep in front of it. What've you got dog hearing or something?" He was still rubbing the knot on his head from his impact with the coffee table. Amy laughed in spit of herself earning an evil glare from Matt. "I'm glad you think it's so damned funny!" Her brows knit at that. Adam said, "I've only been up all night..." Matt cut him off, "You guys want to fight, go for it. I'm so outta here."  
  
He wandered toward the stairs still worrying about the bump on his head. He turned when he reached the stairs, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey, Amy, remind me not to fall asleep with you. Too dangerous." She held her hands up, palms out. "Nope, nope, don't go there. Not my fault. If someone hadn't scared me to death, I wouldn't have jumped up like that." She was trying to make light of it but she was irritated. There had been no need of it. She watched Matt go off to bed and turned to Adam.  
  
"So maybe you'd like to tell me what that was all about?" He grunted a non- answer at her, shrugged his shoulders, and plopped himself down on the couch. She wasn't having it. "No way, what was that all about? Do you realize he could have been hurt? Or I could have?" He jumped back to his feet. "Oh get real. I turned the TV up. I didn't drive a car through the front window. Don't be so melodramatic." He started to turn to go back upstairs but her temper had finally snapped and she grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Look," she hissed, "I don't know what your problem is but that was totally uncalled for. I don't appreciate being scared awake like that and I don't appreciate the attitude. You're being a real jerk, Adam, plain and simple." He took a step into her space and she found herself stepping back. He looked furious. For just a second the thought 'holy god is he gonna hit me?' flashed through her head but a moment later it was gone. His hands, clenched into fists, remained at his side. "You know, I'm not the only one." He snapped. "You knew there were..."  
  
"What did I know?! For heaven sake, Adam, I was asleep!!" "Oh, well I'm glad you were! I sure as hell..." She jumped in suddenly cutting him off. "Y'know, Adam, I don't even know what we're fighting about. This is about the dumbest thing I've ever heard on both our parts. You're about ready to start swinging at me over the TV being on! And I'm about ready to get violent with you too! Enough already!" She reached over and switched off the television in question and the light. "Come on then and get to bed while its still possible." He stood there waiting for her to turn off the rest of the lights and as she walked past him to the stairs, he grabbed her arm. "You know, I wouldn't have hit you." She looked skeptical. "Oh yeah? Well, lets say I'm not willing to test you. Not when we're all tired, stressed, and sick. And, Adam, if I'd realized you were sick up there..." He waved off her explanation. "Forget it. See you later. Good night." He slammed into his room and all but fell into bed. No small feat as he had to climb up to it. To his frustration, everyone in the house was out like lights. Struggling to get comfortable, he'd finally started to doze.  
  
***A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Read and review. And to answer your question yes there will be some romance to come later!*** 


	4. Roads chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
Adam eyed his friend somewhat critically from his spot across the room. He wondered how many more days Matt was planning to sleep and then hang out in those clothes. If he'd counted right, he was on day four. Kind of gross when he thought about it. It had been about that long since he'd gone near the shower too, and Adam was less and less thrilled about being in the same room with him. He'd mentioned it to him earlier and gotten no response other than a somewhat stupid giggle and a snort. Now he watched him wondering what if anything was going on in his head. He didn't want Matt to see him staring. He'd already had his head bitten off once today when Matt had noticed he was being studied. He couldn't seem to help it though. Something just wasn't right. Sighing, he headed into the kitchen. He'd wanted to talk to someone about this for a few days and he'd finally gotten up the nerve.  
  
He found Amy sitting at the table, coffee cup in hand, gazing out the window. Jeff and Chris were wrestling around the backyard. Looked like fun. Too bad they couldn't leave the yard. The media crush that had surrounded them at the hospital had followed them home. Leaving the yard was a challenge at best. The whole time Jeff had been laid up waiting for his ribs to heal and getting over the flu. Now that he was feeling better, he was still housebound. Trust Jeff to make the most out of every situation. Especially impressive, at least from Adam's point of view, was Jeff's dogged determination to be happy. He, of all of them, felt their loss most keenly. Adam let his mind drift back to a few nights ago.  
  
Jeff had come in looking mopey and down, shot Matt and utter look of death who was asleep on the floor, and went stomping up the stairs. Adam was concerned at the open hostility from Jeff and followed to find him storming around the room red faced and furious. His well-meant and innocent query, "Jeff, what'sa matter?" had brought Jeff at him and he'd taken a quick step back for a moment wondering if he were about to get clobbered. Instead, Jeff had brushed by him, yanked open the bedroom door and gestured wildly down the stairs. "HIM!! HE is the matter! Do you have any idea what I'm going through, Adam? Do you?!"  
  
Adam sat down on the bed. "Tell me, Jeff. What's going on that's making you so mad?" "You have no idea what I have to hear. You never go anywhere. You don't hear it." "Where do you go, Jeff? How do you get by them?" "Yeah. Them..." Jeff's expression darkened. "I go through the woods. It doesn't always work. Everywhere I go I have to hear about Matt and how awful he is and how awful IT is and how sad it is that our career had to end like that because of HIM! I hate him, Adam. I really do...I didn't want it to stop. I can't stand it, Adam. And I hate my own brother." His voice had dropped and Adam had seen tears in Jeff's eyes. "You don't hate him, Jeff. You're just mad at him. Maybe you should tell him though." Jeff had looked at him as if he were crazy. "I can't tell him that!! Don't you think he feels bad enough? No, and don't you say anything either. He doesn't need to know about this." Adam smiled then. Maybe Jeff hated him but not so much that he wasn't worried about him. Jeff then took both of Adam's hands and had stared straight into his eyes. "Adam, promise me. Promise that you won't say anything. Not to Matt and not to Amy and Chris. Nobody." Adam nodded and seeing how close to falling apart Jeff was he quietly left the room knowing he'd want to be alone.  
  
Now watching his friends, he had to think that maybe, just maybe, for all Jeff's fury and hurt, this was better. He was dissatisfied maybe but at least he had some time just to be. Adam felt bad though. It was too crazy to go anywhere yet. At least anywhere that didn't involve a trek through the woods. Feeling a little bit jailed in his own house and frustrated with the other inmates, he plopped down at the table next to Amy and reached out for her hand.  
  
Amy smiled. She squeezed his hand back and reached out to brush his hair out of his eyes. "Look at you. You look like a sheepdog. You're going to have to cut that soon." He grinned and shook his head. "Nope, I'm going for the record." His smile faded. "Amy, I need to talk to you. Is it okay?" Giving him a puzzled frown, she nodded. "Of course, why would you even ask?" Sighing, he leaned back tipping his chair against the counter behind him. "Well it's about Matt. And I know you haven't really wanted to talk about him." She sighed and toed his chair back down onto four legs. "Don't do that. You'll fall over. Okay. What is it you want to talk to me about Matt? No, wait a minute." Amy got up and refilled her cup, flashed Adam a dubious look, and then eyed the cup in her hand. "Whaddaya think, Adam? Is this gonna get me through or do I need a good stiff shot of whiskey in it?" He laughed knowing she'd do no such thing. "Whatever it takes, Amy, really." She shrugged and sat back down. "It was a thought. Anyway...okay, Adam, what's on your mind?" He looked down idly tracing a finger along the pattern in the tablecloth. He wasn't sure where to start. She waited, knowing he'd remain silent until he'd sorted out his words. Adam, the careful one. Never one to just blurt out whatever was on his mind as Matt and Jeff were so apt to do.  
  
Adam was thinking hard. He didn't want to make her angry and he didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings with what he was about to say. He knew she was aware of the situation and he didn't what her to feel he was blaming her. Finally knowing there was no diplomatic way he took a deep breath and just plunged in.  
  
"Amy, how long are we gonna let him just lay around not doing anything? He wont go anywhere but from bed to the couch, he wont move, he wont go out, he wont talk to anyone, he wont even take a shower or change clothes. Have you looked at him lately?" She nodded. She knew. "What is it you'd like me to do about it, Adam? Can you tell me that?" Her words were short but she wasn't angry. Adam could tell. She was really asking him. He shook his head. "I don't know. But we have to do something. He's been in the same clothes for like four days! He's sleeping in them for heaven's sake. Don't even try to sit next to him. I mean it." He paused for a minute. "Actually, he's going to bed in them. He's not sleeping. He's up most of the night every night. Only time he sleeps is when he dozes off in front of the TV. Amy, he's really down and nobody's doing anything about it!" He was getting upset now, could hear himself starting to raise his voice and cut himself off. He didn't want to sit here yelling at her. It wasn't her fault. But someone had to do something. Frustrated beyond belief, he dropped his head into his hands unable to continue.  
  
Amy watched him. She understood his frustration. She'd talked to Matt over and over and it always went the same way. He'd look at her with a vaguely confused air, nod once in a while, and drift back to the TV. There were times she thought Matt wasn't even really aware that she was there. That she was simply an annoying noise in the background. She looked at Adam with his head in his hands and sighed. He was right. This had gone far enough. She reached out and patted his shoulder. "Ok, Adam, I'll go talk to him. But don't expect miracles. You know what they told us. To leave him alone and let him recover." He nodded. "I know but he's not recovering. He's avoiding the world. Amy, it's almost worse than....just talk to him?" She nodded, gave his hand a squeeze, and headed into the living room to talk to Matt.  
  
She stood in the doorway watching him for a minute or two. Adam was right. He looked like hell, pale and thin, huge black circles under his eyes, hair matted and tangled, clothes that definitely looked slept in. She shook her head. This was absurd. She quietly walked over to him and gently tapped his legs. "Gimme some room, Matt, I want to talk to you." He curled his legs up making space for her to sit down but his eyes never left the TV. She tried again. "Matt, look at me." He did for just a moment but his eyes slid away again almost immediately. She slid closer noticing for the first time that the sweet soapy fragrance she associated with him was gone, replaced by something acrid and faintly sour. Frowning, she reached out and pushed the tangled hair from his eyes. "Sweetie, look at me. I need to know what going on now." He shrugged a little. "Nothing's going on. Why do you think something's going on?"  
  
"Well, Matt, look at you. You look terrible. You're not wanting to get up or go out with your friends. You don't seem to want to do anything at all. That's not like you. Can you tell me what's wrong?" He looked at her blankly. "No, nothing's wrong." His eyes flicked back to the TV and she deliberately put herself in his way blocking his view. "Matt, please. Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong?" He sighed. "Amy, I guess I'm just tired. And I don't really feel good. Besides where can I go with all those people out there?" He slid down a little lower and closed his eyes. "I'll get up and do something tomorrow. I'm just tired."  
  
She knew he wasn't telling her anything. She knew it went way beyond tiredness. "Matt, it's more than that and we both know it." She spoke gently, "Now, will you please tell me what's making you like this? What can we do to make it better for you?" Matt shrugged again refusing eye contact. "Nothing. I'm okay. I'm just tired." Amy sighed. She knew it had nothing to do with "tired" although she didn't doubt Matt's energy level was nonexistent. Matt had never been unkempt. He'd never been apathetic. She had her suspicions about what the problem was but she'd been warned not to bring anything up. To just "let him recover." She was about sick of it though. She could completely relate to what Adam was feeling. Well, enough was enough. She wouldn't bring up anything upsetting but he did need to clean up. There was just no reason to let this go on. She stood up taking his hands and tugging. "C'mon, Matt, you need to get up now. It's been way too long since you showered or changed and I'm betting it will make you feel a lot better." He yanked his hands back scowling. "Amy, I don't feel like taking a shower, okay. I just want to sort of chill here for a while." Amy sighed, unsure how tough to get with him. "Matt, sweetheart, it will make you feel a world better. Just come get cleaned up. Come on now..." She continued trying to gently prod him but he remained stubbornly fixed on the TV.  
  
Listening from the next room, Adam just couldn't take it anymore. He could hear her in there tiptoeing around it all and he'd had enough. Anger overpowering good sense, he stood up quickly knocking over his chair in the process and stormed into the living room. If Matt wouldn't listen to Amy, by god, he'd listen to him.  
  
"I can't take it anymore!" Practically shoving her out of the way, Adam got right in Matt's face, leaning over him. He crinkled his nose and made a disgusted face. "YOU STINK! Do you realize that? You are completely disgusting me! All of us! You haven't showered in days, let alone even bothered to change your clothes and it is really sickening!" He paused, maybe waiting for a reply. Getting none, he went on louder. "You won't get up, you won't go out, you won't talk to anyone, you just lay here and mope! No matter what I say or what I do you just ignore me and lay there! You don't want to leave the house then fine! I am sick of begging you to go out! I don't care anymore! But if you are just gonna sit here all day and do nothing then the least you can do is shower and change before you stink the whole damn house out!!"  
  
Matt just stared, baffled. He only barely understood what Adam was screaming at him, let alone why Adam what screaming at him. What had he done? He was staying out of everyone's way and being quiet. He wasn't doing anything wrong. What was Adam yelling at him for?  
  
Adam having had about enough of Matt's befuddled stare had pulled him up off the couch and onto his feet by the front of his shirt and was now dragging him down the hallway towards the bathroom. Amy was trailing behind. She couldn't decide if she should intervene and tell Adam to lay off or just let him do what he had to do. His outburst had taken her by surprise and she knew she ought to stop it but some small voice deep inside was telling her to leave it alone. Adam wouldn't hurt him and maybe they'd all been pussyfooting around too much. She knew it was more frustration and fear motivating Adam that he wasn't really angry with Matt so much as worried to death about him. She wished he'd picked a less violent way of showing it but had to admit that her method hadn't done much. At least this had Matt up and moving if not under his own steam. Deciding to just let Adam be, she only prayed that this was a wake up call for Matt and that it wouldn't lead to bloodshed.  
  
Adam pulled a struggling Matt roughly into the bathroom and while still holding his friend in a death grip, he threw the shower stall door open and blasted the cold water. He turned and shoved Matt into the stall and pushed him down under the freezing cold blast. Matt screamed and tried to get up but Adam held him on the ground screaming just as loud right back in Matt's face. It took little effort to hold him there, for all his yelling, Matt didn't have much force behind his resistance.  
  
Adam finally let go of Matt and stepped out of the shower, hair dripping and clothes soaked. He cracked a smile and said in a sickly sweet voice, "There, now was that so hard? While you're in there, try soap." Then, he slammed the shower stall door shut and stomped out of the bathroom leaving Matt writhing in the cold shower. Sputtering wiping his eyes and spitting water, he fumbled for the knob and managed to shut the water off. He sat there for a minute unable to believe that Adam had just done this to him.  
  
Climbing to his feet, Matt ripped the shower stall open and stepped out, eyes wide and a look of utter murder on his face. "How could you let him do that to me?!!" He shouted at Amy.  
  
Before Amy could even answer, he had shoved by her and headed for his bedroom. 


	5. Roads chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Now on with the story!  
  
He was about halfway down the hall when she snapped to her senses. Taking off after him, she grabbed him by one of his drenched shirtsleeves and pulled him towards her. "Let me go!" he shouted, glaring at her.  
  
"NO! You are turning your ass around, you are..." she held up her hand as he began to protest. "You are taking those filthy clothes off and you are getting back into that shower. You're already up. You're already wet so it won't hurt you one bit." She began to pull him back towards the bathroom.  
  
"AMY! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME DO THIS! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I'LL TAKE A SHOWER WHEN I'M GOOD AND READY TO TAKE A SHOWER!" He tried desperately to pull away but she held him tight. In desperation, he lunged but only succeeded in landing on his butt. She stopped, arms crossed. "What are you doing? Get up off the floor, for heaven's sake, Matt." She pulled him up by his sleeve. Reaching the bathroom door, she came up short when he stuck his legs out and pressed them against the doorframe attempting to stop her. This antic landed him on the floor again. He was scowling, the stubborn look on his face beginning to severely try her patience.  
  
"Matt, you're being ridiculous. This is a shower, not a torture chamber, although I'm beginning to think it should be. Now come on. Get up." Matt crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, not moving. Amy nudged him with her foot, "Get up right now." She was no longer yelling. She didn't have the strength. "Matt, don't make me pick you up, that's likely to land both of us on the floor. Come on now, what's the problem?"  
  
Sighing, Matt dragged himself to his feet. He wasn't sure why he'd been fighting in the first place. Whatever his reason had been, he'd forgotten it. He'd been fighting with Adam but couldn't really remember what that had been about either. He knew Adam had manhandled him though and he was going to get him back. If he could just figure out why Adam had been mad at him. He was so sick of this. His mind wouldn't connect one second to the next. He stood there eyeing the shower. He vaguely wondered how long it had been since he'd taken one. His skin felt crawly. He'd probably forgotten. He forgot everything. Still he thought he knew enough to shower on his own and this whole situation was pissing him off. Dragging him in here just wasn't right. He stood there staring blankly as his mind wandered.  
  
"Out of those clothes right now." Matt jumped having forgotten Amy was in there. He stared at her. "What? With you in here? No way!" "Believe me, you don't have anything that I haven't seen before. Now you have two seconds to get out of those clothes or I'm gonna take you out of them myself." He gave her a disgusted look, "Can you at least turn around or something? I mean some privacy would be nice."  
  
Amy eyed him then slowly turned her back. She tried not to laugh as she heard him muttering some nonsense about being forced to take a shower and there should be laws against it as he shed his clothes. He quickly jumped into the shower and slammed the stall shut. "ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?" he yelled over the pounding water. "Yes, I am," she replied smugly. "You clean up. I'm going to get you some fresh clothes."  
  
One hot shower and fresh set of clothes later, Matt stomped out of the bathroom and down the hallway. He plopped himself onto the sofa and flipped the TV on. Restless, irritable, and mad as hell that his friends had humiliated him that way, he couldn't begin to concentrate on the program. "Not that I'd be able to concentrate on it anyway," he thought. Finally giving up in frustration, he flung the remote aside and sat brooding. He could hear voices coming from the kitchen. Voices that were growing louder and more tense with each passing moment. Curious, he edged over hoping to hear better.  
  
"Amy, you don't understand. I'm not trying to say you don't know what you're doing..." Adam was getting frustrated. He was trying to talk to her and it was all coming out wrong. "That's not what I'm saying at all. But he's just hiding from everything. Going further and further in and you guys are just sitting there letting him do it!!" She eyed him, her face telling him nothing. "Adam, we were told to leave him alone. So we've been leaving him alone. Do you really think that yelling at him, calling him names, and throwing him in a freezing shower did any better by him?" He slammed his hand down on the table. "Maybe not! But I don't know what to do! Amy, don't you even care what happens to him?!" She leaned closer to him. She was getting angry. "Adam, don't you even dare to insinuate that we don't care! We are every bit as worried about him as you are. But I'd like to know just what you think we should do! Drag him out?! He doesn't want to go, Adam! How would you feel if you were him?" Adam nodded. "Yeah, I know. I know. But he cant just lie there, he cant..." He was interrupted by the kitchen door banging open.  
  
Matt slammed into the room. He'd had enough. They had no business talking about him behind his back. He stomped over to the table and threw himself into a chair. "Maybe you'd like to talk about me with me here so I can defend myself." The pissed off look on his face was the last straw for Adam. He got up, sneering. "Forget it. I've seen all of your face I can stand. Amy, I'll talk to you later. Do something about him." He stomped out of the room slamming the door behind him. Amy was near tears. He was right but he'd never been like this with them. She glanced over at Matt dropping her eyes hurriedly. She didn't want him to see what she was feeling. He didn't need that. She got herself together and spoke to him softly. "Matt, I want to talk to you. Why don't you go get some shoes on? I'll take you out for lunch." He shook his head. "No, I don't want to go anywhere but you can talk to me here." The look on her face was rapidly diffusing his temper. She looked ready to cry. Feeling responsible and hating himself for it, he reached out for her hand. "We can talk, Amy, if you want to talk." She shook her head. "No, not around here. Not with Adam and everyone else here to butt in. I want to talk to you alone. Just us. Now go get something on your feet." He started to protest but she cut him off. "I'm not inviting you. I'm telling you. Now go." Seeing that there would be no point in arguing, he got up silently and did as she asked.  
  
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Matt watched nervously out the car window at the people gathered at the foot of the driveway. She reached over and patted his knee. "Don't worry. They never bother us. I think they're just..." He nodded. He knew. "They're all here cause of what I did. I know." She shook her head. "You're giving yourself too much credit. Most of them are here because we're home, that's all. They're here because they like us. But you're right, some of them are here because they're morbidly curious. It's faded a lot though. The numbers have dropped so much..." her voice trailed off. There wasn't much to say really. They rode in silence for a while. She glanced over at him, wondering how he was feeling. His face didn't give much away. He watched the familiar streets unwind before him passively. She couldn't tell if he was happy to see them or not. She pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant she knew he liked and glanced at him questioningly. "Matt, is here okay?" His eyes flicked briefly to the sign over the door and then away. "Oh, whatever, I don't mind." She laughed. "You don't mind? Is it okay or not?" He nodded. "Sure, it's fine. I don't really want to go in anywhere though." "I know. But you're going to. You're hiding, Matt, and there's a world out here. It's time you rejoined it." His response was a grunt. He wasn't buying it, she knew. But when she got out of the car, he followed.  
  
Now, outside of their house, seeing him as other people saw him, her heart sank. He looked like someone who'd been through a war and come out of the losing side. Pale and much too thin, eyes sunken and black circled. He looked to her to be in the grip of some catastrophic illness. Worse than that was the way he carried himself. Formerly confident and outgoing, willing to make eye contact with anyone, a ghost of a smile always on his lips. He now clung to the shadows, eyes downcast, seemingly trying to disappear from everyone's sights. Sighing deeply, she put a hand on his shoulder guiding him inside. Hopefully he'd perk up a little in this familiar environment.  
  
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The argument had been going on for ten minutes and she was sick of it. Such a simple thing. "Matt, look, you're in a restaurant for god's sake. Now what do you want to eat?" "Nothing. I'm fine." She was ready to throw the menu at him. He refused to tell her what he wanted. She'd already sent the waitress away twice. Unwilling to give in to him and leave, the response she was sure he was looking for, she poked him in the chest. "Look, it's not going to work. We're not leaving. Now what do you want." He sighed. "If you really want to, you can get me whatever you get." She nodded, encouraged. It was a switch from 'nothing' anyway. "Well, Matt, what if I get something you don't like?" He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm not gonna eat it anyway. But if it's going to make you feel better, go for it." Her irritation sharpened. She'd about had it with him. He was arguing for the sheer sake of it.  
  
The waitress chose that moment to amble over again. She was looking perturbed. All she wanted was the little punk to order or else get out. She had a living to earn and him taking up a table and not getting anything was really irking her. The guy thinks cause he's famous the world should revolve around him, she thought bitterly as she stopped at the table. "Are you ready now?" she asked not masking the annoyance in her voice.  
  
"Matt? Are you ready?" "Amy, I already told you I wasn't going to eat. Why can't you comprehend that? I don't wanna eat. If you want to order for me I said that was fine. But you can't make me eat it. I won't eat it, so why waste the money?" He slumped lower in his seat and made a face at the tabletop. Amy turned and gave the waitress a harsh glare. "Give us another minute, okay?" The waitress raised her eyebrow and just stared at Amy.  
  
"Hey, lady, can you hear? She said give us another minute! It's English not Swahili," Matt grumbled. He hated the way the woman was looking at Amy. He hated the way everyone was looking at them. He wanted to go home. There were just too many people here. "Matt! Enough! I'm sorry, but please just a few more minutes."  
  
The waitress stormed away. Thoughts hostile. Damn kid. He looked like hell anyway. Kid probably didn't want to eat because he felt as bad as he looked. Great, not only was he a pain in the ass, he was probably contagious as well. Wishing that people just knew enough to stay at home, she moved to check on her other tables.  
  
"Matt, why are you talking to her like that? That was totally uncalled for. I can't believe you were so rude. Where do you get off talking to people that way?" Amy was exasperated. She had no idea why he was making this so difficult. She began to wonder why she had let it turn into a power struggle.  
  
Matt was starting to feel stressed. He just wanted out of there. He didn't have the words to explain why his thoughts were too jumpy and unconnected for him to put what he was feeling into any kind of sense. He couldn't tell her that he felt too exposed as if everyone was staring. That he felt as if every person in the restaurant must know what had happened. What he'd done. That they were all passing judgement as he sat there. All he knew was that he was scared and confused and needed to leave. Why was she making him go through this? What did she want? He took her hand and looked at her pleadingly. "Look, Amy, let's just go okay? Can't we just go? I'll eat something at home. I don't wanna stay here anymore!" Matt's voice was rising with each statement as his heart started racing and adrenaline began surging through him. The people at surrounding tables were beginning to stare as his tone became near hysterical.  
  
"Matt, calm down. What's wrong with you?" Amy was baffled. He was being ridiculous. It wasn't as if she'd asked him to get up and wrestle for the room. All she was asking him to do was order his meal. It never occurred to her why it mattered so much that he do it.  
  
"Well, why cant we just leave? Why are you forcing me to do this?" He didn't understand. She'd never been so blind. Couldn't she see he had to leave? Had to? "I don't want to be here! This is stupid! I already did what you asked me to do today, so why are you pushing me?" In his helplessness and anxiety, he resorted to the one statement he felt might have some power over this situation. "The doctor said to give me space! That's what he said! Now I want to leave! NOW!" He slammed his hand down on the table making their water glasses jump. Amy reached out quickly catching one before it fell. Brow knit, she looked up at him. "Matt, you need to calm down. All you're being asked to do is sit here like a normal human being, eat lunch, and talk to me. There's no earthly excuse for all of this. Now, knock it off, or so help me God, you're walking home."  
  
Matt frowned. Why was she doing this to him? By now everyone in the small restaurant was looking at him and he suddenly felt very stupid as well as completely defenseless. Pouting, he took the menu Amy shoved at him and glumly opened it up. Amy motioned the waitress over and said, "Matt, tell her what you want."  
  
Defeated and too tired to continue the fight, he crinkled his nose and flatly said, "I'll have a cheeseburger and fries." He threw the menu back onto the table and slouched over even further into his seat trying to hide his face. Amy ordered and the waitress left. "There, now why did you have to make such a big deal out of that? Huh? Was it really killing you to order a burger?"  
  
Matt fought the urge to say yes and just nodded his head refusing to meet her gaze. He didn't understand why she was doing this to him. It wasn't as if he hadn't told her he didn't want to come here. Why was she trying to force him? She'd never acted like this before. He could feel the adrenaline surging in him again and just prayed that this would all be over soon. Amy didn't notice Matt increasing distress. Why he was acting this way was beyond her.  
  
Some time later, tired of watching him push his food around on his plate and feeling more than a little guilty that she'd let herself be caught up in a senseless fight with him, Amy spoke up, "Matt, can't you eat just a little?" He shook his head and she saw unhappiness on his face. "Honey, why not?" He only shrugged. "I don't know. I just can't. Please don't make me." He sounded near tears and she was baffled. His moods changed so quickly. Looking up, he caught her eye. "I'm sorry..." His voice was soft. "I didn't mean to be such a..." She cut him off. "It takes two, hun, I could've shut my mouth as easily as you. Forget it." She glanced at the ice-choked coke sitting next to him. "Can you at least drink that?" He looked up at her and favored her with a tiny smile. "Yeah, that would be fine." He sipped the drink for a few moments waiting for her to tell him what was on her mind.  
  
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Amy glanced over at Matt dozing in the passenger seat. This just hadn't gone right. She'd hoped that getting him out would make some difference, that it would put a damper on the excess emotion he'd been plagued with and let him really communicate. It hadn't happened. She had the feeling he'd really tried but he'd just been too defensive. Everything she'd said to him appeared to strike him as an accusation and he'd withdrawn further and further throughout her attempts at conversation. By the time she'd finally given up, his responses had become monosyllabic grunts. He'd even stopped his incessant pleading to go home. Feeling more than a little like a bully, Amy had finally called a halt to the whole affair and led him out of the place. Noting the way he kept his eyes averted refusing to look at anyone, she felt a huge ache inside. The thought 'we have really ruined this boy' cycled round her head infuriatingly. The one up point of the whole outing was the fact that as he'd been avoiding her questions he'd been absently munching on his fries. He didn't seem to realize he was doing it and she hadn't told him. Now seeing him wan and pale sleeping beside her, she wondered how they were ever going to salvage this. She'd hoped that being home would somehow do it. But it was worse. Granted he wasn't spending all of his days in a chemical induced stupor but he was every bit as withdrawn, more so in fact. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the road, wondering.  
  
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Matt's eyes were closed but he wasn't asleep. His nerves were too fired up for sleep. This whole thing had been horrible. He couldn't believe she'd made him go there with her and then to bully him like that! She'd never been like that. Never. He and Amy had always gelled. She'd always just clicked into whatever wavelength he was on. He'd never had to deal with her 'not understanding' him. At least not until today. He'd felt so bad more than once that he'd had to actually hold onto the table to stop himself from just jumping up and taking off out of there. He'd desperately wanted not to make a scene but it had been terrible. Everyone seemed to have been looking at him. He knew they weren't, but god help him, it was all he could do not to run. Added to that was the pressure she was putting on him to order food. He just couldn't. He couldn't decide. He couldn't think. How could he pick something from a menu when he couldn't even keep a thought in his head for more than two seconds? Besides, food made him throw up. That was the last thing he needed. To get sick in public. Or in front of her. He'd caught himself nibbling on french fries and was regretting it now. He just hoped he'd make it home. And she'd wanted him to talk to her! Amazing, she just didn't seem to see what was happening. He'd wanted to talk. He wanted to tell her that he was tired and scared and confused and afraid he'd lost his mind forever. That he sat around and did nothing because he couldn't seem to focus on anything long enough to function. That he couldn't remember anything. That he couldn't sleep. That he was sick all the time. That he was still so horrified by what he'd done to Jeff that he could barely stand himself. About the man in the hospital and what he'd been told. But he couldn't. He couldn't pull the words together. Every so often his mind would clear and he'd get something out that made sense but nine times out of ten he lost the thread and had to fight to get it back. By the time she finally decided to stop, he was too exhausted to do anything but grunt. Between the struggle just to stay there and sit, to not shout or cry or make any kind of scene, and the effort to figure out what she was talking about and what he should say, he'd completely destroyed any reserves he had. He was exhausted physically from the continuous adrenaline rush that had begun as soon as he'd walked through the door and emotionally from the strain of holding himself together. The thought occurred to him that for all his struggling he hadn't done that good a job. He'd still managed to make a scene. Sighing, he turned a little, trying to get comfortable. He felt her hand then, warm on his own, and smiled a little. It still felt like she loved him. He wished with all his heart that he was sure. The words he'd heard in the hospital cycled around in his head. The words that made him so unsure. The words that, ironically enough, he wanted to forget but couldn't. A secret fear deep around his heart, paralyzing him. 


	6. Roads chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
Tossing and turning. Just couldn't get comfortable. He was so tired he wanted to cry. Why couldn't he sleep? Why couldn't he just close his eyes like everyone else and fall asleep? That's all he wanted to do. Go to bed and sleep like everyone else. He couldn't take it anymore. His eyes were red and puffy and huge dark bags had formed on top of days old ones. He was so tired. His head, which had ached when he'd gone to bed, now felt as if someone were driving a spike into it just above his eye. It was faintly nauseating and only added to his misery. He struggled vainly to get comfortable for a few moments more and then sighing climbed out of bed. "At least," he thought wearily, "if I cant get to sleep, I can get rid of this headache."  
  
Matt got up from his bed and tiptoed his way to the bathroom. Everything was quiet so he assumed everyone was asleep. Good. Once in the bathroom, he closed the door and turned on the light. The medicine cabinet was huge and it contained all sorts of colored bottles of liquid and pills. He was looking for a particular one though. He dug through the many bottles, cough syrups, stomach remedies, allergy pills. Where was the Advil? Two of those, maybe three, would knock the pain back and take at least one obstacle out of his way. His frustration mounted as quickly as the pain in his head. There just wasn't anything in here. He started to shut the door, pausing when his eye caught the edge of a bottle on its side. Was that it? He reached behind a box of alka seltzer and some old razor blades and pulled out a bottle, dusty and discolored. He instantly knew it wasn't the Advil he was seeking. This was a prescription bottle. Curious, he glanced at the label, almost too faded to read. Squinting to make it out, his breath suddenly caught in his throat. No. It couldn't be. They wouldn't. He looked again, convinced sleep deprivation was causing him to hallucinate. No. Right there. Valium. The one thing he was suddenly sure was going to help him get to sleep. Aahhh, there it is, breathed the small not sane voice in the back of his mind. That's what you need. Just one. Sleep. Sweet sleep. He looked guiltily at the bottle, after all it had been the culprit of all his troubles. He started to put it down when the voice spoke again. Sleep. No more staring at the ceiling, listening to them breathing. Just one. To get to sleep. After the day you've had, you need it. He shrugged and opened the bottle. Temptation was big. He took one tablet in his hand and looked at it. Would one be enough? Probably not. Better take 2.  
  
As he shook the second tablet into his hand, he felt his chin tremble. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked horrible. Hadn't slept in so long it felt like. The face staring back at him nearly made him sick. He felt nausea rising in his throat and choked it back. He closed his eyes and swallowed deeply and the feeling passed. He sagged against the sink and again looked at the two white tablets that lay in his hand. I can't, he thought. Angrily he grabbed the whole bottle and went over to the toilet. He lifted the lid and held the bottle poised over the water. He desperately tried to dump the bottle into the bowl but he couldn't. Insanity spoke to him again. It's all you've got. It's all there is. Do you want to die of exhaustion? He felt himself cry out, mad at himself, mad at the bottle, and most of all mad at the small white pills that had such a hold over him. He felt himself begin to cry now, tears flowing freely over his pale cheeks. He crumpled to the floor and hugged his knees, the bottle still clutched tightly in his fist. Suddenly, just as quickly as the waterworks had started, they stopped. Matt sat up and sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his free hand. He climbed off the floor and stood on shaky legs. He left the bathroom, bottle still clutched in fist and headed for the one person he knew would help him.  
  
As quietly as he could, Matt padded into Amy's bedroom and went to the side of the bed. She was lying, her back to him. Hating to wake her up, he just stood over the bed staring. She looked so peaceful. He was about to leave but when he saw the bottle still in his hand he knew he had to wake her or he was going to down some of the pills. It was what he wanted. He wanted those pills so badly he could taste their bitterness sliding down his throat at that very moment. That was why he needed her. She was the only one who would understand.  
  
"Amy," he whispered. He reached out and gently shook her. Amy shifted slightly but didn't wake. "Amy," Matt said a little more urgently. If she didn't get up and help him in about two seconds he would down half the bottle so he could sleep. Amy rolled over and wearily opened her eyes.  
  
"What, what is it, Matt?" She muttered thickly.  
  
"Amy, I need your help. Come with me, please?" Oddly, he felt more clear- headed than he had in weeks. He knew if she didn't move he was lost.  
  
His pleading look caused Amy to frown. "What's the matter, honey? What is it?" she noticed the bottle clutched tightly in his fist and his tear- stained face and quickly got up. She took his arm and led him out of the room. She led him into the bathroom and flipped on the light, blinking at the harshness of it. Taking the bottle from him, she peered at the label, shock suddenly making her heart race. "Matt, please tell me you haven't taken any of those pills, please."  
  
"No, I didn't. I want to. I have to. I can't sleep!!! I have to sleep. I really want to. But I didn't. I haven't. I need help. You have to help me. You have to help, please, I just I cant..." Matt trailed off, losing all words. He just stared at her helplessly, tears welling in his eyes again.  
  
"Okay, shhh, it's okay. What do you want me to do? How do you want me to help you?" She held him to her and he began to sob, wetting the front of her nightgown.  
  
"I need you to get rid of these. I tried. I cant. I can't do it. I'm not strong enough. Please, you have to do this for me. I need you to do this for me," he was gasping the words out, near hyperventilating.  
  
"Matt, calm down, sweetie, calm down. You're ok, you're fine, shhh," Amy clutched him tighter and fought back her own tears. Matt pulled away from her suddenly and grabbed her hand. Pressing the bottle into her fist, Matt implored her. "Do something with them, now! Please!"  
  
Amy took the bottle and walked to the toilet, Matt grabbing onto her again and clinging to her arm as she went. She turned the bottle upside down and dumped the contents into the toilet. Matt watched, transfixed, as the pills swirled in the current then just like that...were gone. He looked up at her, relief and horror competing for room on his face. His mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions. Relief that they were gone and no longer a threat. Fear that now there was nothing to make this bearable. The horrible thought that he would never sleep, just lie there awake night after night forever, until he died or went crazy. He grabbed for her, desperate, as his legs began to tremble. He was fighting to stay on his feet, struggling with he knew not what, a terrible searing pain that ripped through his head unable to stop it. His head fell back and he screamed incoherent and wordless as his legs gave into the shaking. Amy caught him and held him close to her, not speaking. There were no words to soothe this. She held on, not letting him fall, praying that this would end. That he hadn't snapped for good.  
  
Chris bolted upright in bed, Matt's insane howl of rage and grief having ripped through the wall of sleep like a knife. Not having any idea what was going on, he was out of bed and down the hall before he was even aware he was moving. The scene that greeted him halted him in his tracks and wiped the last vestiges of sleep from his mind. Seeing Amy struggling to keep a limp and trembling Matt on his feet, he stepped in swiftly, picking Matt up and signaled Amy to follow him.  
  
Chris bypassed Matt's room, in favor of his own. He wasn't sure why he did this, instinct was screaming at him that this was crisis. To keep him close. He gently laid Matt down on his bed thinking at first that he was unconscious. He was surprised to see brown eyes staring up at him, wild eyes filled with fear and tears. His hands moved to Matt's hair, his face, somehow knowing that physical contact was what would hold him here. Something inside him was screaming that they were losing him, that whatever was going on here...unable to think, he started to look to Amy for an explanation when Matt's hands suddenly gripped his. The nails digging in bringing blood.  
  
Matt was desperate. He just didn't know what to do anymore. He clutched Chris' hands, panicky unaware that he was hurting him and the words he'd been holding in, afraid to speak, tumbled out uncontrollably. "I'm sorry..." His voice was barely coherent, choked with sobs. "I didn't mean it. I swear to you. I didn't mean it. I didn't take any. I just couldn't sleep. I have to sleep. Please." His words dissolved into hysterical crying, he couldn't keep going.  
  
Not understanding what was going on, Chris looked to Amy. Wordless, she held out the empty Valium bottle. The color drained out of his face and she read the unspoken question there. She shook her head. "He didn't take any. He woke me up. He was going to. He made me throw them away." Chris' eyes were huge as he pulled Matt up, holding him tightly. Wordless, his own heart breaking. Matt's arms went around him, almost painfully tight and Chris heard whispered words.  
  
Matt didn't really know he was talking. Some wall in him had finally crumbled and everything he'd been afraid of, everything he'd hidden was spilling out. He grabbed out blindly for Amy and pulled her in close to him, holding them both, praying that they were really here. Unable to help himself the words flooded out. "I'm sorry. I didn't take any. You wont make me leave will you? Please don't make me leave. I won't do it again. I want to stay...god, I didn't mean it..."  
  
Puzzled, Amy gently pushed him back a little to look at him. "Matt!" She raised her voice. She wanted Matt to hear her. Her firm tone slowed his hysterical babble and he managed to look into her eyes. She continued, "Matt, what is this? Why would we make you leave? What is it you're afraid of?" Matt shook his head, "No, no, they told me. They told me..." Chris interrupted him this time. "Who, Matt? Who told you what?" Matt couldn't answer. His words dissolved into sobs and he clung to them. Looking at each other, their eyes showing their helplessness and confusion, they sat with him, waiting.  
  
********************  
  
Matt tossed and turned, unaware that a dream had taken over and he mumbled aloud as the scene played out in his plagued mind. Lying in his own bed unable to sleep. Pure torture. Sitting up, near tears. Standing in darkness. Cold tile, cold floor, switching from one foot to the other rooting through the medicine cabinet...  
  
Dropping one more tablet from the bottle into his palm. When had he opened it? Where had it come from? So cold. Why was he so cold? Setting the bottle on the counter, clutching the two pills in his hand.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?"  
  
That voice, slow and distorted, coming from out of nowhere. Startling...nearly dropping the whole bottle on the floor. Chris standing in the doorway...sudden light. Cold, still so cold...  
  
Eyes shut, can't block the glare. In the few seconds his eyes were closed, feeling Chris advance on him, bright stars danced in front of his eyes. Shake them away...only making himself dizzy. Again the question. Again the voice, garbled, loud and deep, the words dragging grotesquely. Trying to speak, but nothing coming out. No voice. Why couldn't he speak? Why couldn't he see?  
  
Clearing vision, anger in Chris' face.  
  
"You take any?"  
  
God that voice! Why didn't it stop? Slowly backing away. Hands grabbing him by the wrists, grabbing the bottle still held in his fist and slamming it onto the counter top, pulling hard on his wrists pain stabbing him from all over. Chris shaking him hard.  
  
People. Now there were people here, everywhere. Amy, Shane, Jeff, Adam...why were they here? "Leave, you have to leave!" But he had no voice. No voice, nobody was hearing him. Amy. Amy right there.  
  
Desperately clawing the air with bloodied hands trying to reach her. She steps toward him reaching, but Adam in the way, stopping her, breaking his heart. His own best friend betraying him, pointing to the brown bottle on the counter top. The label. Watching Amy's face fall. Crying out as she backs off and lets Chris continue to man-handle him.  
  
Matt's hands balled fists so tight. Thin streams of blood flowing down his clenched palms. Is this why his hands are bloody? Why are his hands bloody? Chris. Rage. Taking Matt's hands and slamming them as hard as he can on the counter top. Matt screaming...white pills falling hitting the floor. Tears, immense pain, Adam looking at him wide eyed. Helpless in Chris' grasp as Adam steps into the bathroom, picks up the pills and stands by Chris. His eyes flaming. "You coward."  
  
Matt prayed that he was finally sleeping and that this was all a nightmare, although no matter how hard he tried to shake himself awake he couldn't. It hurts so badly. Adam staring him down. He can't tell them. "No no no no, Chris, please stop. It hurts. It hurts. I'm sorry. I only wanted to sleep, Chris. I only wanted to sleep. Only wanted to sleep a little. I swear," no voice. Why can't he speak? Why can't they hear him? Wake up. Please wake up. "Let me go! Let me go!" Screaming silence. Why? Why are you looking at me like that, Adam? Screaming in his head. Please don't look at me like that. Please. His own best friend calls him a coward. Tears flowing harder. Averting his eyes. Look of disgust in Adam's face. The doorway, Jeff, Amy, everyone there. Eyes meeting Jeff's saw him mouth the words 'I hate you'. God no. Not Jeff. Not Jeff. A dream. A dream. It must be. God, please, have to wake up. People now. Strangers. A sea of strangers. Faceless. They have no faces!! Hands reaching out, grabbing him, chains digging into his wrists. "Sending you away, Matt, taking you away." "You're gone, Matt, goodbye, goodbye. Never again." Screaming, screaming. "None of you are real!! This is a FUCKING nightmare!!" Crash of a fist in his face, hitting the floor, hitting the floor, falling, falling. How many times could he fall? That voice. That voice all around him. "Get up. Matt! Get up!! Matt..." Hands grabbing him, holding him. "Let me go!" Fighting, pushing at the hands, have to get away. "Get off me!" Scrambling out of the bed. How did he get in bed? Where are they all? Something tugging on his foot, falling...  
  
"MATT!! WAKE UP!!" The shout brought him the rest of the way up, as arms caught him, breaking his fall. "Matt! Wake up! It's a dream! Its just me!"  
  
Matt grabbed desperately for balance, nails digging into the arms that held him, heart racing, gasping for air. What was happening? It took only a few seconds to register that he was awake, that he had been dreaming. The arms had pulled him up onto the bed again and were holding him tightly. Twisting around, he looked up into the face of Amy. Still partly gripped by the dream, Matt saw her face and felt his heart lurch in his chest. Panic took over and he was scrambling backward, twisting out of Amy's grasp. Amy let him go immediately, not wanting to risk hurting him, but quickly got up and shut the door. She didn't want Matt running out of the room, to possibly fall down the stairs. She sat quietly, watching Matt, who was backed up against the far wall, face wary and frightened. When she saw confusion begin to replace fear, she spoke quietly.  
  
"Matt, it was a dream. It's okay. Would you like to come sit down, now?" Matt only blinked at her, the reality of his surroundings not completely replacing the reality of the dream. Amy tried again, careful not to raise her voice or move to quickly. "Matt, whatever it was, it's over. You're okay." She watched as Matt backed the rest of the way up to the wall, then slid down it coming to rest on the floor, head on knees. He looked up once, glanced at Amy, his expression miserable beyond words. He shrugged helplessly and dropped his head back onto his crossed arms. Amy, realizing that Matt was finally awake, moved closer. "Matt, you okay?" Matt sighed.  
  
"Yeah, I'm losing my mind but I'm okay." Amy sat down on the floor next to him. "You think you're losing you mind?" Matt gazed at her, staring into her eyes. Amy had the disconcerting feeling that Matt was staring into her soul. "Want to tell me about it, Matt" Matt sighed. More than anything, he did want to talk. The dream had shaken him badly and he needed someone to tell him things were okay. He nodded, slightly.  
  
"Yeah, but I can't. Not now. I just feel..." he stopped, the words clogging in his throat. "I feel like the walls are closing in. It's like I can't breathe." The sound of his brother's voice wafted in past the closed door and the dream flashed back at him. They'd all be staring at him. They'd all be accusing him. He felt his nerves firing up again and clutched at Amy. "I have to get out of here. I don't know what to do." He hated the tears that threatened. He didn't want to cry in front of Amy. He rubbed fiercely at his eyes, furious with himself. "I have to get out of here. Can we go somewhere? Can you just get me out of here? Before I go crazy."  
  
Amy watched him for a moment, then stood extending her hand to Matt. "Come on. Lets go." "Where?" "Anywhere. Out of here." Matt's eyes searched hers for a very long moment, perhaps looking for some sign that he could trust her, before nodding and reaching for her hand  
  
********************  
  
Matt rode in silence, listening to the hum of the tires. He wanted to talk. He wanted to tell Amy what was going on. He just didn't know where to start. It was so hard to sort out his thoughts. Things just jumped around, flashes of clarity followed by confusion. He didn't know what to do. It was all too mixed up. So he sat mute as the road unfolded in front of them.  
  
Amy glanced at Matt, hoping he would say something. She had so much she wanted to say but the thought that she might sound accusing or angry stopped her words. So many people, experts, had warned her. "Just leave him alone. He'll open up when he's ready." She was truly afraid of doing real damage. Still, she knew there was too much going on for Matt to cope with on his own. She watched the road and Matt, and waited.  
  
The riding was beginning to get to him. He'd been ignoring the queasiness that had been building but it was reaching the point of real discomfort. Sighing, he tapped her arm. "Amy, I'm starting to get kind of carsick. Can we stop for a while?" He smiled a little, feeling silly. "Probably I should have taken a Dramamine before we ran away."  
  
Amy, surprised and pleased that he could make even so faint an attempt at humor, smiled back at him. "We'll remember that next time. Okay, we'll stop for a while. Or we can go back home. It's up to you."  
  
Matt shook his head. "No, I don't want to go home. If we could just stop. Do you mind?"  
  
Amy shook her head and pulled the car over. She looked at Matt, his face ghostly white in the moonlight, and finally decided it was time to jump in. Careful to keep her voice neutral, she spoke softly. "Matt?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"What happened tonight? Can you tell me? How did...what was it?"  
  
Matt sighed. "I don't know. I just..." He ran his hands through his hair, adrenaline beginning to run. There was no air, it seemed. "I have to get out of this car." He was out the door and headed across the parking lot before Amy could blink. She climbed out and followed, keeping a few feet behind. Matt seemed hairtriggered, she didn't want to spook him. They'd pulled into the parking lot of an elementary school and Matt was headed for the swings. She watched him plop himself down on one and cross his arms. She sat down on the swing next to him.  
  
"You know..." her voice was faintly amused. "We must look like something from a lifetime family movie sitting in the playground here."  
  
Matt breathed a laugh, greatful for the tiny respite. "I guess we do." He kicked the gravel under his feet a little and turned to look at her. "If I tell you, please, promise me you won't get mad." Fear sounding in his voice brought Amy's guard up.  
  
"No, Matt. No, I won't get mad."  
  
Matt gazed off across the parking lot. "This place looks haunted, doesn't it?" He had started to tremble and his head was thumping with the beginnings of a stress headache. "Amy..." He stopped again, one last time, his eyes drilling into hers. "Amy, I swear to you, I was only looking for some Advil. My head hurts, you have no idea." His breathing grew ragged and he fought to control himself. He would not cry. "I couldn't find any but I found that old bottle. I haven't slept in so long. All I wanted was to sleep. I know. I know that if I'd taken one of them I'd be asleep right now." He gazed blankly into space, right hand twisting the fingers on his left. "I almost did it. I was so close. I even had them in my hand. But I knew. I knew that if I took them..." He trailed off again, voice breaking. He sighed shaking his head. "I don't know. I don't know." He toed the gravel again and when he looked up his eyes were flashing. "Why'd you even have them?!?! This wouldn't even be happening if they hadn't been there! Do you want me to just..."  
  
"No!" her voice cut him off more effectively than a slap would have and suddenly her hands were gripping his. "No, Matt, we do not want you to go back to that. I swear to you, to god, that we had no idea those pills were there. If we had any idea, they would have been gone!" The pressure of the hands on his overrode the words his ears were hearing. His traumatized, terrified, and exhausted mind suddenly flung him back into the nightmare, and the hands gripping his were those of an enemy. He jerked away, jumping to his feet, skittering backward away from the enemy that now stood in front of him. His voice, ragged and hysterical, cut Amy to the bone.  
  
"He broke my hands! He broke my hands trying to get them away from me! But I don't think I was even doing anything. You sat by and let him. I think it was all...all a mistake! I think you...I think you wanted me to be...doing something...I don't...you let him break my hands and hit me...and I don't think I even had taken any...Jeff said he hated me. Adam called me a coward. I tried so hard to tell you all...and those people. Those people with the chains. You just let them take me. I begged and begged but you just let them take me. I love you! How could you let them take me?? I tried so hard to tell you..." He stopped, too shaken to continue, unaware for the moment that what he was remembering was a dream. Amy, understanding some of what was going on in his mind, reached out and took his face gently in her hands.  
  
"Look at me, Matt. It's me. I'd never hurt you. You must know that." She expected Matt to pull away, but surprisingly, felt her hand being tentatively held. "Matt, what did you try to tell us?" Now Matt looked at her, deep into her eyes and Amy was again stricken with how ghostly and insubstantial Matt looked. His voice was as faint as his appearance.  
  
"I tried to tell you that I didn't do anything. But none of you would listen. It was like you had all already decided." His eyes gazing into Amy's cleared suddenly and he seemed to realize what he'd been saying. "I'm sorry. I know. I'm all mixed up." Amy nodded. She knew. "Amy..." Matt's voice was choked. "I really wanted those. I really did..."  
  
"Why, Matt? What's so bad? Can you tell me?  
  
Matt shook his head. "No, I don't know. I'm tired. My head hurts. I just can't think anymore. I can't ever think!" His tone took on viciousness, a fury that Amy found herself slightly afraid of. "No matter what I want to do, who I want to talk to, nothing makes any sense! I try to get up and get a drink and forget halfway there what I'm doing. Go back and then remember again. Halfway there...it's gone again. I can't remember anybody's name. I can't even remember to take a shower or get dressed, or even get UP sometimes!! I hate being like this! I can't do anything. I can't talk to anyone. Adam wants me to go see people. How?? How can I go near anyone when I can't even...Amy I..." He broke off, the tears he'd been fighting finally overcoming him. "Amy, I might as well not even be alive. And I'm so scared I'll always be this way..."  
  
Amy found herself on her feet. 'I might as well not even be alive' had chilled her to her very soul. She reached for his hand. She didn't know what to say. She looked at Matt, who sat with silent tears streaming down his face. It had to be terrifying to have your mind be so out of control. Especially for someone who'd always been so sharp. She thought for a moment then spoke up. "Matt, you're pretty clear right now. And you have been the whole time we've been out."  
  
Matt nodded wiping his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It comes and goes."  
  
"And it's no better than it was when you got home?"  
  
"Yeah, it is. I guess. I just feel so stupid..." He sighed, gazing at nothing. "I guess I feel stupid. I don't even really know what I feel, Amy..." He had started to shake again. "Amy, can I tell you something?" He didn't pause, didn't seem to require a reply. "Tonight, I got up because I had a headache. I was just looking for some Advil. I found that bottle and...Amy, I almost took them. I had them out and in my hand. I...what would have happened to me, if I had?"  
  
"Matt, you didn't."  
  
"But if I had?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You don't know...I haven't slept in so long. It would have been so nice to just sleep...that's all I wanted them for...I tried to throw them away. I couldn't do it. That's why I got you. I wanted to just kill you when you did it though. It was like...you just threw away my last hope. Why did you have those?!"  
  
"Matt..." The compassion in her voice penetrated. He looked up into eyes he was sure would be filled with accusation, contempt, and hatred but read concern there, and sympathy. He reached a hand out, eyes pleading.  
  
"Amy? Please? Just tell me what to do?" There was no answer, really, but the arms around him then. But for the moment it was the best they could do and it was enough.  
  
A/N: sorry it took so long for the update. I posted twice as much to make up for it. Forgive me! I'll try not to take so long next time. 


	7. Roads chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
"Don't they ever go away? You'd think they have lives or something." Adam sighed as he ruefully watched the group of assorted press standing near the end of the house's long driveway, shadows long in the evening's sunset. "Hey, you guys wonder if they sleep out there all night? Think they have like beds and stuff in those vans? Maybe on the weekends they get together and have little picnics and set up volleyball games." When he heard nothing out of his friends he turned around. "Guys, you..."  
  
He frowned as he realized half of his audience had left the room and the other half was snoring. "Fine then," he muttered. Taking one last glance at the fiasco at the end of the drive, Adam closed the blinds and walked over toward Matt's bed where he was laying one arm hanging off the side of the bed, mouth open. Adam plopped on the floor next to the bed. He sighed. Matt was only marginally better company when he was awake, anyway. He was so apathetic. It took a major act of God to get him to move. Well, maybe waking him up would motivate him to do something, even if just yell.  
  
"Hey," he said. Leaning back on his hands, he used his foot to jiggle Matt's limp arm. "HEY!" he called louder. He began to lightly smack at the arm with his bare foot, watching somewhat amused as it flopped back to its original position. "Matt, wakie wakie," Adam sang in a high pitched voice.  
  
Suddenly the arm was pulled onto the bed and Adam found himself looking into a pair of glaring brown eyes. "Adam, I swear to God. Touch me one more time and I am gonna have to hurt you." Matt punctuated his statement by rolling onto his side, his back facing Adam.  
  
"All right, geez." Adam rolled his eyes. "Oh hey, Matt? While you're awake can I ask you something?"  
  
"What?" Matt grumbled.  
  
"Did you ever call Trish back?"  
  
"No."  
  
Adam sighed. "Matt, she's called asking for you like four times today. The least you could have done is call her back."  
  
"Adam..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go away!"  
  
Adam continued, undaunted. "Matt, don't you think you should call her? She's one of you best friends and you haven't even spoken to her since you got back. You haven't spoken to anyone since you got back but this is Trish. You really should call her."  
  
"Go away."  
  
"Matt, she's worried about you!"  
  
Matt rolled over to face his friend. "Adam."  
  
"What?"  
  
"If you don't go away right now I will become violent. I'm not calling her. I'm not talking to her. I don't want to know what she thinks of me. Can't you see this?"  
  
"But, Matt, she doesn't..."  
  
"Adam!! Just shut up and go away!!" He turned his back on his friend again. Adam made a face and stuck his tongue out at his back. "Fine, but where might I ask do you suggest I go? Hmmm? It's not like I can just leave the house or anything. Not with the mob squad hanging around on the lawn."  
  
"Adam, there are eight other rooms in this house. I'm sure there's something to do in one of them. Now lemme alone. I'm trying t'sleep."  
  
"I'm sure there's something to do in one of them," Adam mimicked Matt's voice sarcastically.  
  
"ADAM!"  
  
"Sheesh, sorry. You're a big help, you know that? I'm dying of boredom and it's only 8 o'clock. Why can't you get up for a while? You've only been lying there all day." He kicked his friend's bed a couple of times.  
  
A hand crept up from the shadow of the bed and gave Adam the bird. Adam felt his heart leap triumphantly. Being flipped off was rude but it was a sign of life. It was easier and easier to invoke those lately. Patting himself on the back, glad he'd inspired a reaction in Mr. Apathy, he snickered and left the room heading for the living room. The TV was on and he figured maybe the others would be doing something of interest. Maybe Jeff would be in there. As he walked into the room he found Chris, Amy, and Jeff. However, interesting would not be a word to describe what they were doing. Jeff had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace and Chris was at the table apparently doing some sort of paperwork. Amy was watching a stupid made for TV movie. One of the eight o'clock on Tuesday night things. He hated those. He stood in the doorway watching for a moment. No one acknowledged his presence. Crinkling his brow, Adam walked into the room and flopped onto the end of the couch by Amy's feet. She briefly looked at him and flashed a small smile then continued watching the movie. Hoping to get his point across he sighed loudly. Nothing. Adam frowned. He sighed a little louder waiting for a reaction. Either his friends were ignoring him or...no there was no or, he thought. They are ignoring me. He raised an eyebrow and began to hum the Miami Vice theme loudly. That got a reaction.  
  
"Adam?" Chris looked over at him.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"If you're going to do that go into another room. I have to concentrate and Amy is watching TV." Chris returned his attention to his work.  
  
Adam threw his hands in the air. "Fine," he grumbled.  
  
"Honey, if you're bored why don't you read a book or something?" Amy suggested.  
  
"Amy, I've read every book I own...twice. What do you think I've been doing cooped up in this house for the past month?"  
  
Amy sighed. "Well, I don't know what to tell you then. I'm sorry you can't go anywhere. You could go to sleep..."  
  
"Amy, it's not even nine o'clock."  
  
She shrugged. "Sorry. I wish I knew what to tell you."  
  
"Whatever," he mumbled. He walked out of the room. Standing in the dark hallway for a moment, he contemplated gong into the garage and fooling around on Chris' guitar for awhile but then decided against it. They would probably tell him to be quiet in there too.  
  
"This sucks," he said aloud. Wait a minute, he thought. Why am I letting these stupid people keep me locked away in here like some prisoner? I'm not in jail. I can leave this house if I want to. The worst they could do is follow me.  
  
With determined air about him, he walked to the front door. Opening it, he stepped onto the front walk. The flurry of action from the vans shocked him. Cameras were hoisted. People began to shout questions. Adam gave a small yelp and jumped back inside, slamming the door.  
  
"Adam? What are you doing?"  
  
"Nothing, Amy! I just wanted to get some fresh air. I think I'm gonna go back upstairs now." Adam walked back upstairs to Matt's bedroom. Matt was still on his side breathing deeply. Every once in a while his breath would hitch and come out like a jagged sigh.  
  
Adam sat at the computer desk and sighed. Flipping on the small desk lamp, he decided to go online and see if any of his friends were signed on. He waited impatiently for AOL to connect. Finally after signing in he was able to check his email. As he read a few messages from his friends asking where he had been lately, he was im'd.  
  
Hey Adam. It's Trish. How ya doing?  
  
He smiled and typed back: Bored out of my skull. You?  
  
LOL! I feel the same! Just surfing around. How's Matt? And that little punk Jeff?  
  
Okay, I guess. They're both sleeping.  
  
At 8:30? Hehe  
  
No kidding. Hey look, sorry Matt didn't call you back. I gave him the message, but...  
  
Well...I guess I understand. I don't know why he's shutting me out, but he just needs space now. I can wait. Well, look, tell him to take his time. I'm sure he'll talk to me when he's up to it.  
  
No, you know......forget that. It isn't fair to you. You've been friends with us for too long. I'll get him to talk to ya.....never fear.  
  
Well, don't force him.....like I said.....I don't want to piss him off or anything. Want to stay on his good side.  
  
I don't think he has a good side anymore.....j/k. I'm sure it's in there somewhere. (Suddenly Adam had an idea.) Hey, mind if I came over for awhile? Is it too late?  
  
No, that would be fine. Are you going to be able to get out of the house? I saw all the vans and stuff when I drove by earlier today.  
  
=) I have my ways.  
  
All right evil one. See ya in a few?  
  
Sure thing.  
  
Adam quickly signed off. He grabbed his shoes and hastily put them on. Taking his jacket from it's spot on the floor, he walked over to the window that faced the front of the house. Still surrounded. Walking over to the windows that faced the backyard and woods, he opened the blinds. Not a soul in sight. Adam grinned. He glanced at Matt and mumbled softly. "Fine. If you won't go to her, I'm bringing her to you. And you have nothing to say about it, pal. Nothing." He pulled the blinds up and opened the window. Carefully sliding the screen up, he checked once to make sure Matt was still sleeping. Then he eased himself out of the window and grabbed onto the huge old maple tree that stood next to the house. Wrapping his legs around a thick limb, he closed the glass and screen again. For a moment, he hung, the gentle breeze making the leaves around him rustle. He took a deep breath savoring the fresh air. Then remembering he had a task at hand he quickly scaled his way down the tree and dropped to the ground. Sitting crouched for a minute, he listened to see if the group out front had managed to hear him. Apparently not, for he couldn't hear anything but the gentle sounds of a quiet night. He smiled and lightly patted himself on the back for getting out of the house undetected. Making sure to stay along the edge of the house, he inched his way along until he reached a batch of trees. Jumping behind them, he took a second glance over his shoulder to confirm that he was going to be able to get away without anyone knowing. Satisfied that he was in the clear, Adam took off at a slow jog making his way through the woods heading towards the road that lay behind his house.  
  
The walk to Trish's only took Adam fifteen minutes. He rang the doorbell and waited until the french doors were opened. He looked up at Trish and grinned. "Hey."  
  
"Adam!" her voice was pleased and a little reproachful. "It's about time you got on over here. But..." she peered past him only half joking. "Nobody followed you, did they?"  
  
He laughed. "No, nobody followed me."  
  
Smiling, she stepped back. "Come on in here, you. I want to get a look at you. Go stand where I can see you." Trish opened the door and Adam stepped inside the cozy home. He let himself into the living room and obligingly stood in the light. Trish looked him over, arms crossed. "Well, you've looked better. How are you doing? And the rest? None of you ever called me..." Her tone became faintly accusing. "So I haven't had any idea. You doing okay, Adam?"  
  
He nodded. "I'm okay. Thanks. How about you?"  
  
"I am just fine. But tell me, how is it at home? How are things going?"  
  
His smile faded. He'd known she'd ask. Still wished she hadn't. "It's tough, but you know. We're hanging in there."  
  
"Adam...let me know if I can help. I mean that."  
  
He nodded. "I will."  
  
Again her arms crossed. "And you can stop being polite. If you want to stop talking about it all you have to do is say 'Trish, I don't want to talk about it.' "  
  
He smiled. "Trish, I don't want to talk about it."  
  
Laughing, she cuffed him lightly.  
  
"Look, I have a small favor to ask you."  
  
Trish furrowed her brow. "What kind of favor?"  
  
"This is a good favor, I swear."  
  
Trish scrutinized him. "I don't know, Adam. The last time you asked me to do you a small favor I remember being grounded for almost two weeks."  
  
Adam laughed. "That was so long ago. Besides I swear, this has nothing to do with wanting to earn extra money by setting up a kissing booth and making all the neighborhood kids pay a dollar for a real kiss with a genuine girl. I can't believe you still bring that up anytime I ask you for a favor. That was years ago. And if I might add I still think it was a good idea for a thirteen year old."  
  
"Yeah, well, my parents weren't all that thrilled about seeing their little daughter play Traci Lords to half the neighborhood."  
  
"I thought my parents were going to kill me. I also had Matt and Jeff parading up and down the street with sandwich boards advertising to all the kids. I think my mother turned about ten shades of red that day." They both laughed at the memory. Suddenly Adam was serious again. "But really, I want you to come with me back to my house. I think you need to talk to Matt. I've tried but he doesn't want to listen to me. Figures he can snap at me all he wants. I don't think he'll be so quick to snap at you."  
  
Trish sighed. "He isn't doing to hot is he?"  
  
Adam shook his head. "That's just it. I don't know. He doesn't talk to us. He either grunts a response or is like huh? I've taken to calling him the thing because he's just like this lump that sits there and doesn't do anything. It's really disturbing. I thought maybe if he talked to you...." He paused and just shrugged. "I don't really know what I thought. I'm willing to try anything at this point. I'm this close to losing it. I really am. I can't deal with this anymore. Chris and Shane have just sort of accepted it and say to give him space. Blah blah blah. Jeff just sort of tiptoes around him like he's afraid Matt's gonna explode at any second. Amy....geez.....I don't even know what she thinks about this whole thing." Adam took a deep breath. "He talked to Amy all night a few nights ago and we thought he'd be better but it didn't seem to make any difference. I've tried and tried to get him to call you but he just looks at me. I don't know. Sometimes I think he's better. He gets attitude with me and stuff but it always goes away." He looked bleakly up at her. "I know he misses you. I know he wants to see you so bad but he's too ashamed to call you..." he trailed off not sure what else to say.  
  
Trish listened to him intently and when she was sure he was done she stood up. "Let's go then. No sense hanging around here." She grabbed her coat. Adam followed heading down the stairs.  
  
They walked in silence. Adam wondering what kind of explosion would greet him when Matt saw Trish and Trish wondering what she was going to find when she got there. When they got to the back road, Trish stopped. "Where are you going?"  
  
"We have to go through the back yard. Too many people out front."  
  
"Oh, that's right. How could I forget."  
  
They made their way to the back of the house but when Adam bypassed the back door and headed for the maple tree Trish stopped again. "Umm, Adam?"  
  
Adam who was already starting to climb the tree halted. "What?"  
  
"Umm, what are you doing?"  
  
"I'm going into my house. What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"Well, call me crazy but from where I'm standing it appears as though you are climbing a tree."  
  
"Well, yeah. We're gonna go in though the window."  
  
"What!!"  
  
"Shh...geez. What them to hear you? I didn't tell anyone I was leaving. I don't want to get them involved." He made his way easily up through the branches but paused again when he realized Trish was still on the ground. "Are you coming?"  
  
Trish really didn't understand Adam's pressing need to force her up the tree but resigned herself to the fact that he wasn't going to let her go through the door and began to slowly climb. "Adam, if I fall and kill myself, you are going to be so sorry because I will come back from the dead and make your life a living hell."  
  
Adam laughed. "You're not going to fall. Don't worry." As he spoke, he slid the window open and began to slip inside.  
  
"You could at least wait to make sure I get up this stupid tree before you go climbing inside, geez."  
  
"Alright, alright," Adam waited one leg in the window, the other stretched and resting on a tree branch. When Trish was right below him he climbed in the window and then reached out to help her in. It all would have gone well if he'd looked at where he was putting his feet.  
  
"Adam?" Trish held her spinning head. If he didn't stop laughing she was going to pop him one. "Adam!!"  
  
"What?" he was laughing so hard he could barely speak.  
  
"Adam, shut up. I have a concussion here..."  
  
He tried with every ounce of energy he had to stop laughing. For a moment, his face was comically twisted in an attempt not to smile but it was too much for him and he fell over again hysterical. It had just been so funny. He'd been reaching back to help her into the room, slipped on a magazine, and fallen over, yanking her headfirst into the room through a chair and onto the floor. The crash had been astounding. Now the pissed off look on her face was just taking him apart. It was just too funny. She was going to kill him. That was it. "Adam?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"You suck..." she swung as hard as she could, belting him right in the head. He yelped, grabbing his had, still unable to stop laughing. He sat up one hand out to block her.  
  
"Trish. Trish. Cut it out...." His continued laughter prompted another smack. This one hard enough to knock him back down. Matt had slept through the spectacular crash of Trish's and Adam's entrance to his room. With all the people in the house, crashes weren't that uncommon. The brawl was beginning to penetrate though and the constant jostling from bodies striking the foot of the bed finally woke him up. Blinking stupidly at the forms careening around the room, he attempted to speak.  
  
"Waha djo gsy daoing..." he stopped himself and shook his head knowing his mouth and brain hadn't yet connected. Untangling his tongue, he tried again. "Hey! What are you guys doing?! Could you take it some place else?" Getting no response, he sat up and raised his voice. "Hey!! Want to cut it out please? People are tying to sleep here." Leaning on one hand, he squinted into the murk trying to make out just who he was yelling at. "What's going on anyway?" Trish gave Adam one last shove and ambled over to Matt, still holding her head.  
  
"Sorry, Matt, but Adam tried to kill me just now."  
  
Matt jumped a little at the voice. "Trish?"  
  
"Yeah, who else would you expect to find beating up Adam in your bedroom?" she reached for the bedside lamp. "Watch your eyes, Matt." And flipped it on. Perching on the edge of his bed, she eyed him critically. "Well I guess I wasn't missing much. You look like hell..." her voice trailed off. He didn't exactly look thrilled to see her and she was wondering if she should leave. Her eyes stated her confusion and he read her easily.  
  
"No, Trish, it's okay. I'm glad to see you." He reached up then and pulled her down for a hug surprising her. Matt had never been particularly touchy with her, unless you counted wrestling. She returned his embrace absurdly touched and more than a little worried. He wasn't just hugging her, he was clutching her. There was a certain desperation to it. "I really missed you..." his voice was a faint whisper in her ear. She disengaged herself gently.  
  
"Funny way of showing it, Matt..." she chided softly. "I've only been trying to see you for a month. I missed you too..." He smiled then and she relaxed a little. A gentle tap on her shoulder made her turn and she shoved over to give Adam room to sit down. "Matt, sit up so we can fit, would you?" He complied and Adam climbed over him to lean against the wall.  
  
"Well, this is cozy. Trish, you gave me a fat lip."  
  
She laughed as Matt examined his friend. "Hey, Trish, you really did! Were you guys really fighting?" His voice was vaguely worried and she laughed.  
  
"Maybe I was. He made me climb the tree to come in here and tried to cave my skull in..."  
  
"Climb the tree? Adam why'd you do that? Are you nuts? Why were you climbing the tree?" He turned to Trish, dead serious. "He fell out of a tree once. We thought he busted his leg. You'd think he'd learn." He made a face at Adam and gave Trish a nudge. "Lemme up, Trish." She slid aside noticing as he climbed over her how much weight he'd lost. She saw him stagger slightly when he stood up and jumped to her feet steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. He smiled faintly. "It's okay, Trish. I just got up too quick. I'll be right back." She watched him walk out the door and turned to Adam, a question in her eyes.  
  
He shrugged. "He's in pretty rough shape, Trish. He went through a lot. We all did." He lay back onto Matt's pillow. "That's part of why he wouldn't see you, Trish. He didn't want anyone seeing him like this."  
  
She snorted. "Adam, it's just me for heaven's sake. It's not like I care how he looks. Well, I do, but not cause it matters. Just cause I worry about him. I am just not making sense.  
  
He laughed. "Sure you are. I know what you mean. Part of it is he's so ashamed of himself. He's really convinced that all of his friends are going to think he's just useless. He's scared, Trish, y'know."  
  
She nodded. "I can see why but most of us are just worried about him. Worried about all of you guys. You're like prisoners here. It's really not fair and..." she stretched out next to him, "We never get to see you."  
  
He smiled and slid an arm around her. "Well, we're working on getting rid of the..." he broke off as Matt came back into the room. Adam's eyes narrowed. Matt looked a little funny to him. A little pale, eyes a little teary. Matt caught his look.  
  
"What Adam? What are you staring at?" He was sniffing and swallowing more than normal and Adam nodded.  
  
"You got sick again, didn't you? Matt you have to say something about that..."  
  
Matt shook his head. "No, I'm fine. You worry too much."  
  
"Like hell, look at you. You did, didn't you?"  
  
"NO, Adam, I'm FINE..." he scowled at his friend. "Jeff's on his way up and Amy said Trish should come downstairs to visit." He was smirking a little. "Guess you're not as smart as you thought you were. You want to come downstairs, Trish? Or did you want to just climb back down the tree?"  
  
Trish laughed. "I'll go down and hang out a while if it's okay with you guys. And it had better be." She glanced pointedly at Adam. He shrugged, looking sheepish and pushed his way past Matt.  
  
"You coming too? Are you really gonna venture from the room?"  
  
Matt shoved him, "Shut up. I leave the room all the time. Trish, come on."  
  
Adam laughed as he watched them go. Matt was more animated then he'd been in a long time. 


	8. Roads chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
Matt yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The sound of a comedy blaring from the TV in the living room had awakened and surprised him. Amy had said everyone was going out. She had asked him to go but he declined saying he wanted to take a nap. He'd gone from total insomnia to sleeping all the time. He wasn't sure that was an improvement but he did know he felt better. Seeing Trish and seeing that she and the others weren't judging him had made a big difference in him. Thoughts of rejoining the human race now sounded bearable, almost appealing rather than terrifying. If he could just stay awake for more than half an hour at a stretch. He stumbled into the living room still a little groggy from his nap. To his surprise he saw Jeff slouched on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He was glad. He hadn't really seen much of Jeff since they'd been home. Somehow they never seemed to be in the same room at the same time unless they were asleep. He missed hanging with Jeff.  
  
"Jeff, what are you doing home?" Matt asked as he made his way over to the couch.  
  
The sound of Matt's voice startled Jeff and he jumped slightly, he feet falling to the floor. Matt. Matt was here. He'd forgotten.  
  
"Oh, Matt. Umm, I didn't feel like going," Jeff replied slowly now wishing with all his heart that he had gone. He didn't want to be alone with Matt. He knew it was silly but just thinking about it made his heart race. He'd noticed it as soon as they got back. He found himself in a panic any time he was alone with Matt. Something in him just wouldn't let go of it. He knew his brother wouldn't hurt him. He'd thought he was fine but since they got home he'd avoided ever being anywhere alone with him. He sank down lower into the couch cushions hoping Matt would just go back upstairs until whatever weirdness this was went away.  
  
Matt, having no idea that his brother was upset, yawned and flopped down on the couch next to Jeff. "Ohh, how come?" He crinkled his brow and frowned though when he realized that Jeff had scooted away from him almost to the end of the couch practically smashing himself against the armrest. "Geez, Jeff." Sarcasm was heavy in his voice. "Thanks for the space but you know, I'm not really taking up all that much."  
  
Jeff sighed. "I just don't want you to jostle me or anything. I'm a little bit sore."  
  
"Oh, well why are you home? How come you didn't go with everyone else?"  
  
Jeff sighed again. "You already asked me that. I'm a little bit sore," he whispered.  
  
"What?"  
  
Jeff cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. "I was sore. Chris gave me a Tylenol and said I should stay home." He couldn't take his eyes off of Matt.  
  
"Oh...okay." Matt didn't quite know what to say to that so he simply began to watch the TV. Unable to follow and to become absorbed in the show, he realized that Jeff was not watching the TV but staring at him very intently. Turning to look at his brother Matt reached for his hand. "What's up? Are you okay?"  
  
Jeff jumped again almost as if he hadn't expected his brother to catch him staring and quickly yanked his hand away averting his eyes. "Umm, nothing. I'm fine."  
  
Matt just gave Jeff a weird look and returned his attention to the TV. He wasn't sure what was going on but he didn't think it had anything to do with him. If Jeff wanted to be a freak, so be it.  
  
"Umm, I'll be right back," Jeff suddenly said getting off the couch. He couldn't stand it anymore. He wasn't sure why but Matt was giving him a real case of the screaming horrors. Calling himself every name in the book and wishing it was possible to really kick himself, he headed out of the room wishing he could run.  
  
Matt winced as he watched his brother slowly walking out of the room putting his hand near his ribs and rubbing furiously at his side. Knowing there was nothing he could do about it, Matt's attention went back to the TV, this time keeping track of it. It wasn't until the program was over and he was halfway through the next that he realized Jeff had never come back. Wondering if Jeff was all right, he turned off the TV and listened for a moment. He could hear shuffling from upstairs. He frowned, unable to identify the sounds, and went to see what Jeff was up to. He climbed the stairs and headed for his bedroom. The door was partly and he stood in the doorway watching as Jeff, his feet sticking out from underneath the bed, rummaged around occasionally tossing an item out that had mysteriously disappeared months before and was now being recovered as Jeff scrounged.  
  
Jeff had no idea what he was doing. It was killing his chest and side to be under here but he had to do something. He had to forget that he was here alone with Matt. He knew it shouldn't bother him. It never had before. Feeling like he was losing his mind and quickly, he threw himself into cleaning out under the bed, and gradually his fear faded...  
  
"I haven't seen that shirt in ages." Matt commented as a green and blue striped t-shirt came flying out from under the bed. Jeff sat up at the sound of Matt's voice, heart jumping into his throat, bonking his head as he realized he was still underneath the bed.  
  
"Owww," he grumbled slowly scooting out from under the bed. He rubbed at his sore head then at his side, which was screaming at him from all of the extra activity. Matt watched as his brother scooted out, his shirt riding up to his chest. Most of the bruises were completely gone and the worst ones had faded to a pale yellow. He wondered when the actual pain was going to go away and felt guilt stabbing at him.  
  
"You okay?" Matt inquired.  
  
Jeff glanced over, saw Matt looking at him, and quickly fixed his shirt. "I'm fine," he mumbled. He felt like Matt was looking right inside him and he felt terrible.  
  
Matt who was oblivious continued trying to engage his brother in any sort of conversation. "What the heck possessed you to clean out under the beds?"  
  
"I don't know. I just felt like it. That's all." Jeff stood up and looked at the pile of missing treasures he had recovered frantic to find an excuse. "I wanted..." he kicked an old shirt aside and picked up a book. "I wanted to read this again."  
  
Matt raised his eyebrows. "The Scarlet Letter? I didn't know you ever read it a first time."  
  
Jeff frowned. "Well, okay, so I didn't. But I want to read it now, okay? So I'm gonna go read it." He clutched the book to his chest and hurried out of the room.  
  
Matt just stood there stunned. "What the hell is up with him today?" he wondered aloud. He sighed and wandered back downstairs. Flopping back on the couch he watched the end of his TV program. When he heard Jeff open the refrigerator door, his stomach growled. "Oh man, I'm hungry." He got up and went into the kitchen a little annoyed that it took a cue, the sound of a fridge, to make him see he needed to eat. "I'd probably starve to death because I'm too stupid to remember," he thought, "if things like this didn't happen to remind me. I am so pathetic." He came up behind Jeff as he entered the room.  
  
"Did anybody buy any of that cereal," he asked Jeff, who was holding a bottle of apple juice.  
  
Matt's voice sent a bolt of blind panic through Jeff. He jumped, dropping the bottle which shattered when it hit the floor, apple juice and broken glass spraying all over the kitchen. Jeff froze unable to believe what was happening. He was beginning to lose the ability to think. Adrenaline was driving coherent thought out.  
  
Matt couldn't take this anymore.  
  
"Jeff, what the hell is your problem? Every time I open my mouth you jump a mile! Why? What the hell is up? Look at this, now..." He stepped toward Jeff, his intent to reach behind him for something to clean up the mess with. Jeff evidently thought he had other ideas and jumped back out of reach colliding with a kitchen chair toppling both the chair and himself to the floor. Matt's eyes were huge. Jeff had startled him out of his wits jumping back like that. Now here he was on the floor all wrapped up in a chair. What on earth was wrong with him? He walked over and held out a hand. "Come on, Jeff. Get up."  
  
Jeff shook his head. "No, I'm fine."  
  
Matt scowled at him. "Jeff, you are all tangled up in a chair, covered with apple juice, and lying on the floor. This is some new meaning to the word 'fine' that no one has told me about. Now will you get up please?" His sarcastic expression turned to worry when Jeff continued to hesitate. "Jeff, you're okay, right? You're not hurt, are you?" He reached down and took Jeff's arm. "Come on, let's see..."  
  
Jeff pulled away and climbed to his feet. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt. I...I have to make a phone call." He backed out of the room not turning his back until he had the door between himself and his brother. Matt stared at the empty space of his leaving for several minutes finally beginning to catch on. The blind panic in Jeff's voice had been pretty hard to miss. He stood there unable to decide what to do.  
  
Jeff paced twirling the phone cord between his fingers. He felt so stupid. He was being ridiculous. He knew he was but he just couldn't help it. He listened to the ringing at her end, heart racing. She had to be home. He didn't know who else to call. She had to be home. 35 rings later, he was about to give up when the phone on the other end was finally picked up.  
  
Trish heard the phone over the sound of her shower but she ignored it. Whoever they were, they'd call back. She was more than a little annoyed when the phone continued to ring and finally jumped out to answer it. "Hello? This better be good." Her voice plainly showed her irritation.  
  
"Trish? I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. This is Jeff..."  
  
Hearing the panic in his voice, her annoyance drained away immediately. "It's okay, Jeff, what's going on?"  
  
"I don't know, Trish, can you come over here? I really need to not be alone here. I don't know who else to call."  
  
She wrapped her towel a little tighter around herself shivering lightly. "Jeff, I was in the shower. What's wrong?"  
  
His voice came back shaky and shrill. "Trish, you have to come over! I can't stay here alone! What are you doing that you cant come over?"  
  
She sighed and began toweling herself off one handed. "If you must know, Jeff, I'm trying to dry off and talk to you at the same time. You sound all freaked out." She expected a giggle and when it didn't come she understood how upset he really was. "Okay, Jeff, let me get dressed. I'll be right over. But isn't Matt there with you?" She wasn't sure but it sounded like he was crying.  
  
"Yeah he is, Trish. That's why I can't be here alone. I can't be alone with him. I'm getting sick. Please. Please come over..."  
  
She sighed, not knowing what was going on but realizing that it was serious. "Okay, honey, I'll be about ten minutes." He hung up without another word and she shook her head. This was not going to be pleasant.  
  
Jeff never saw Matt standing in the doorway. He listened quietly to the whole thing, feeling his soul dying with every word his brother spoke. When he heard his brother's tear choked voice utter the words 'I cant be alone with him. I'm getting sick' he felt all of the defenses he'd been hiding behind crash down on him. Jeff was afraid of him. Still. There was never going to be a way to fix this. He'd thought that things were finally returning to normal. Things had felt better lately. 'Guess I'm just too far gone to even look at what's in front of me' he thought sighing. He turned silently and crept out of the back door. He didn't know where he was going. He just couldn't be there anymore. Maybe the doctors had been right. Maybe he should have been taken away. He didn't know. But he couldn't deal with this. He ran across the backyard and into the woods. Six steps in, shadows claimed him and he disappeared. 


	9. Roads chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
It was starting to get dark and the first few stars of the night were already shining up above when Matt finally decided to head home. He had been aimlessly walking through the woods for at least an hour, maybe more. Finally tired and feeling worn, he had found a rock and just sat hugging his knees thinking about what he had heard Jeff say. 'I can't be alone with him. I'm getting sick...' the words rang over and over in Matt's mind and once again he had to bite his lip and clench his jaw to keep the tears that threatened in the corners of his eyes from spilling over. He'd replayed the scene over and over, never getting past the hurt he'd felt. It never even occurred to him to try to solve the problem. Despair and self-pity drowned out everything else. His brother's words had set up an insane echo in his head and all the hope he'd felt was drowned out by it. He gently rocked himself back and forth, his baggy sweatshirt doing nothing to keep him from feeling the chills of the cool night.  
  
Briskly rubbing his arms, he stood and stretched. Glancing at his watch, his eyes grew wide when he realized he had been gone nearly six hours. 'Did I really sit here that long?' he wondered. I must have. He quickly took off heading towards home. He really didn't want to go there but another destination failed to suggest itself to him. He was tired and cold and home was the only place he had to go. He had been walking twenty minutes when he realized he had no clue where he was. Stopping, Matt glanced all around searching for a familiar landmark. All he saw was dark woods.  
  
"This is so stupid," he spoke to the trees, "I totally know my way around out here. How can I be lost?" Disgusted with himself, he wandered a little further, still finding nothing that looked familiar. Panic began to set in and he started walking again, faster this time, as he desperately swept his eyes back and forth hoping to see something that looked familiar. When he heard the sounds of people talking, he drew a great sigh of relief and headed towards the sound of the voices. He burst clear of the woods and found himself in someone's backyard. Frowning, he made his way to the front of the house where he could hear what sounded like a group of boys talking. As he emerged from the side, he could see a group of about ten boys ranging in age from maybe 18 to 23. They all gave him curious looks as he walked slowly across the lawn.  
  
"Hey, man? You lost?" one of the boys called.  
  
Matt stopped and turned to face the group. "Umm, I don't really know. I was walking in the woods behind my house when I sort of ended up here."  
  
"Well, what street do you live on?"  
  
"West 78th."  
  
"Shit, that's like three streets that way," one boy jerked his thumb over his shoulder indicating that Matt was walking in the opposite direction.  
  
"Okay, thanks." Matt began to head in the direction the guy had pointed when someone else called out to him.  
  
"Hey, ain't you that one Hardy boy?"  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
Sensing Matt's unease, the guy replied, "No reason. Just recognized you is all. You wanna drink?" he held up a beer can and plastered a huge smile on his face.  
  
It was then that Matt noticed most if not all the guys were drinking beers and other assorted drinks. Temptation began to rear its ugly head. He took a step closer to the house then stopped.  
  
"Umm, nah, I better get going. I should be home by now."  
  
"Come on, man. One beer won't kill ya. You look dead. It'll revive you." The group all laughed at that. Matt took another step, then hesitated. The front door of the house was wide open and he could see more people inside. He walked closer until he was next to the porch. He hesitated there. Even when he'd been right in the middle of it with Jay, he never drank. Perhaps taking his silence for acceptance, the boy on the porch pressed the can into Matt's hand and smiled engagingly. Refusing now would probably make him look stupid. Besides, what difference did it make? Look at what was going on at home. Couldn't really go out, own brother was afraid of him. Hurt welled up inside of him overriding the frantic voice of reason that was screaming at him to leave and leave now.  
  
"Well, maybe one drink wont hurt," he said. He popped the tab taking a long gulp.  
  
"Here, come sit down. Get comfy. We're all just sort of chilling out." Someone indicated a spot near the front door. Matt climbed the steps and sat leaning against the doorframe.  
  
The guys began to banter back and forth talking music, girls, parents, school, anything they could think of to rave about and before he knew it, Matt had polished off two beers and was feeling remarkably relaxed. When a familiar smell drifted from the house out the open door, Matt sat up straight. Looking inside, he could see a group of people sharing a bowl in the living room.  
  
He stood and asked, "Hey, okay if I go in to use the bathroom?"  
  
One guy waved him in, "Yeah, g'head," he mumbled.  
  
Matt stepped inside and walked towards the living room. As he stopped and stood in the doorway, one of the stoners looked up. "Hey, man, want a hit?"  
  
Matt never even thought about refusing. It never even occurred to him. He was too depressed, too angry. The voice of reason never even whispered to him.  
  
Two hours later, Matt had the group steadily through their stash. He had been alternating between smoking inside and drinking outside. Now with a major buzz going, he was back in the living room sprawled on a couch laughing his fool head off when he happened to glance at his watch. "Oh, man......I gotta home. Goota home. I mean."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I have to gooo, as in bye, leave, yep," Matt stood with some difficulty and aimed for the door.  
  
"Where ya going, man? We still got some stuff left."  
  
"No, no...I gotta go...now...home..." Matt stumbled out the door and down the porch steps. A hand grabbed his arm as he was walking and he turned to see one of the guys staring at him.  
  
"You gonna be okay getting home? I don't need to be arrested for getting one the Hardys killed."  
  
"No, I'm cool......really......" Matt shrugged the guy off, called bye over his shoulder and headed in what he figured was the direction of home.  
  
Adam had fallen silent over an hour ago. He was just too worried for idle chatter. Matt was gone and nobody had seen him. Where on earth could he be? It was getting late and Adam was getting tired. He'd arrived home to find Trish entertaining Jeff and no clue that anything was wrong. It wasn't until several hours had gone by that he'd gone up to his room and noticed Matt's absence. He's quizzed Jeff and Trish and finally dredged out of Jeff the faint memory of seeing Matt out back. Jeff had filled him in on the events of the day and Adam had become concerned. If Matt knew how Jeff had been feeling, he was probably pretty upset. The thought of him in the confused and muddled stated he'd been in lately out running around town was making him decidedly uncomfortable. He'd called the others who'd asked him and Trish to go see if they could find him. They would do what they could from their end. He'd gone but he had no idea where to look. He'd asked all of Matt's friends but not surprisingly they'd all commented that not only had they not seen him today, they hadn't heard a word since he'd been back. Frustrated, he was beginning to be tempted to just go home and leave it to Matt to find his way home. He turned to Trish to tell her this but her attention was elsewhere. She was looking up the street. He watched her face, amused. She was certainly intent on something. Following her gaze, he spotted a flash of long brown hair in the distance. Glancing at each other, they sped up hoping to catch up to whoever it was.  
  
Matt was getting annoyed. He'd left his new friends and started home only to find the world behaving oddly. Every step he took caused the ground to tilt alarmingly in no predictable direction. 'At this rate,' he thought, 'I'm gonna land on my butt.' He had never found just picking up one foot and putting it back down to be so difficult. He suspected he was more than a little drunk. He wasn't sure. Things just wouldn't hold still! Pausing to try to get his bearings, he took a moment to look around. He wasn't at all sure where he was. Home might lie in just about any direction. He giggled at that. 'I'm lost in my own town,' then resumed stumbling in the direction, he hoped, of home.  
  
Adam looked at Trish, eyes wide. "OH MY GOD!"  
  
She nodded. She couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say.  
  
"Trish, Look at him!! Oh Jesus!!" Matt was staggering all over the sidewalk, giggling maniacally even though he looked as if falling down and breaking something was a given. She shrugged and glanced at Adam.  
  
"Well, we found him."  
  
He nodded, "Oh yeah we did." He sped up to a slow jog catching up to Matt in a few moments. Adam was devastated. Matt was a mess, even from a distance it was obvious. How could he have done that? Weren't things bad enough? After all he'd been through, how could he have done this? Unsure how to feel or what to think or how to deal with this, Adam reached out and took hold of his friend's arm. "Matt? Slow up." Matt jumped about a foot in the air, stumbling into Adam. He goggled at him blearily swaying slightly trying to keep his balance.  
  
"Hey, Adam..."  
  
Adam winced. Matt's words were slurred and foggy. "Matt, what'd you do?"  
  
Matt looked puzzled. "Wha'd I do? I'nt do an'thin'. Hey issat Trish?" He squinted in her direction struggling to focus his eyes.  
  
Adam was afraid to let go. Matt looked about to keel over. "Yeah, Matt, that's Trish. Come on. You're going the wrong way."  
  
Matt grinned. "I thought I was b'cause I'm not sure where I live, Adam." This struck him very funny and he giggled again. Trish took his other arm.  
  
"Come on laughing boy. Let's get you home." She wasn't finding this anywhere near as amusing as Matt seemed to be.  
  
He shook her off. "Lemme go. I c'n walk jus fine on m'own. Y'don need to be holdin' m'arm."  
  
She shrugged. "Whatever, Matt. Adam what are we gonna do with him? You can't bring him home like this."  
  
Adam was running his hands through his hair intensely nervous. "Geez, Trish, I just have no idea. You're right. I can't take him home, not now, not like this. It would scare Jeff to death." Matt pulled out of Adam's grasp and plopped down cross-legged on the grass.  
  
"When y'all get done talkin' 'bout me, lemme know."  
  
Adam looked panicky. "NO! NO! Don't sit down! Trish, help me here..." She sighed and they each took one of Matt's hands pulling him back to his feet.  
  
"Come on. We'll go to my house and figure this out." Adam nodded and steadied Matt who looked about to pass out.  
  
"Wake up, Matt. So you can get where you're going."  
  
Matt giggled. "Y'right. Adam, where'm I goin?" Adam just stared. There seemed to be a lot to the question. He really didn't think he could even begin to answer it. Matt shook himself out of their hands as they began to walk. "I'm okay. Y'don need t'hold my hand." He couldn't really figure out what their problem was. He was fine.  
  
"Hey, Matt..." Trish turned to walk backward. "You doing okay?" He nodded then stopped as the world suddenly jumped out of his sights.  
  
"Wow, tha's really freaky." Trish sighed. He was really a mess.  
  
"Matt, you are gonna get so sick. Do you realize that?"  
  
He laughed. "N'I'm fine."  
  
"Suit yourself but don't say I didn't warn you. Adam, this is gonna be a long night." He grunted not happy at all.  
  
Matt watched the ceiling spin wondering how much faster it could go. It was making him dizzy. Somewhere, someone was talking to him, their words ebbing in and out, keeping time with the spinning ceiling. He couldn't understand them really. Why wouldn't they just shut up? They seemed to want a reply. He didn't know what reply, just that they wanted one. Annoying. Where was Trish? She'd been here a few minutes ago. Or a few hours. He wasn't sure. The spinning was beginning to make him sick. He wished it would stop. Thinking that sitting up might help, he dragged himself upright immediately regretting it. He froze as nausea slammed into him, waves of it crashing over him, head spinning.....  
  
Trish was on her feet in an instant. She'd seen his face right before he sat up. She knew what was coming. She grabbed for a trashcan she'd brought over knowing what was going to happen.  
  
"Adam, help here.." her tone snapped him out of the daze he'd been in and he had hold of Matt in a second.  
  
"I've got him, Trish, just hang on to that." She nodded, feeling pity and rage warring inside her as she watched her friend vomiting. He had to have known. After all that had happened to put himself in this situation again. Biting her lip, she glanced at Adam wondering how he was holding up. Adam was seconds away from tears and he hated himself. He didn't want to cry. Not in front of people. Certainly not in front of Trish. But this was straining all of his self-control. He held his friend up, keeping his hair back, waiting for this to spend itself. He'd never seen anyone get so sick, so fast. Matt couldn't even take a breath.  
  
Glancing at Trish, he was reassured. She looked vaguely annoyed, but not worried. Catching his eye, she smiled slightly. "It's okay, Adam, it's bothering you more than it's bothering him. He's so out of it he probably has no clue what's going on." Adam only shrugged and held his friend tighter.  
  
"You guys should stay," Adam nodded and his gaze shifted to Matt who'd spent the better part of an hour throwing up and had then passed out. He was sprawled out on his belly on the floor and appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Adam reached down and pulled the blanket Trish had thrown over him a little higher up gently brushing some hair from his face.  
  
"Why do you suppose he did this, Trish? After everything that he's gone through..."  
  
She shook her head, "I don't know, Adam. I really don't know." Peering at him more closely, she could see how troubled he was. "Adam, can I help? What is it?" Her arm was around his shoulders again and something in her tone, some sincerity, some absolute loyalty he could hear finally broke down the wall he'd been barricading himself behind. He looked up at her, eyes full of tears.  
  
"You just don't know, Trish, you just don't know...you don't know what it was like for us...for him..." he dug furiously at his eyes, angry with himself. He felt her hand stroking his hair and when he looked at her the look in her eyes said it all. He could talk to her and she wouldn't judge. She wouldn't criticize. She wouldn't blame. She wouldn't condemn. She loved him and she loved Matt and that was all that mattered. The last of his control slipped away then and he let his head fall onto her shoulder, no longer trying to fight the sobs that were suddenly shaking him.  
  
Trish waited for Adam's tears to play themselves out. She's never known him to cry. The pain he was in must have been enormous. She knew he needed to talk and she knew he would when he was able. They weren't going anywhere. Matt was out. She sat and let her friend cry on her shoulder, waiting.  
  
The pitch black surprised him. Sitting up quickly, he immediately regretted it for his head spun and bright red stars exploded in front of his eyes. Moaning, he grabbed his head. He felt horrible. Could horrible even describe it? Probably not. As he waited for his vision to clear, he tried to orientate himself. Glancing around, he was finally able to make out a dresser and nightstand. He was in a bedroom. But where? Panic set in and for just a moment, he had the absurd thought that he had been kidnapped. Don't be stupid, he scolded himself. He peered through the darkness and nearly jumped a mile when a computer screen suddenly came to life, lighting up a corner of the dark room. Heart thudding in his chest, Matt forced himself to take deep breaths and slowly let them out. The screen lit up enough of the room for him to recognize where he was. Trish's room. How did I get here? And why am I sleeping here? Oh man......his memory crashed into him and without realizing it a loud whimper escaped his lips. What have I done? He tried to stand but with his enormous headache and the fact that his feet had become entangled in the sheets on the bed, he only succeeded in tripping and falling with a crash. The world of darkness was spinning and when the overhead light flashed on, Matt nearly screamed.  
  
"You okay?" Trish was kneeling on the floor in front of him, concern etched on her face.  
  
"No...no, I am not okay," Matt grumbled. He rolled over and sat, leaning against the bed. "I'm stupid. I can't believe I did this. How could I do this?" his head dropped into his hands. He wasn't going to cry. No way. He was too angry to cry. He felt more like beating something...hard. So he sat rocking his hands clutched fistfuls of his hair and muttered under his breath. Trish watched him for a moment and gently reached out. She tried to move his hands from his head but he only pushed her away.  
  
"Matt, stop it. Now," she spoke harshly as she once again reached for his hands. This time he let her take them. Once she had his hands away from his head, she sighed. "Matt, look. You made a mistake. Okay? Everyone makes mistakes. It's just something to learn from."  
  
"Trish, you don't understand. I can't do this. I can't afford to make a mistake this big. I've already asked so much of everyone. I don't know how they could find it in them to forgive me for all that I've done. I know they don't trust me. They just sort of tolerate me. And now......now I've just wrecked any sort of reconciliation they had building. I've just ruined it all. Why do I do things like this? Why aren't I strong enough? Why can't I be like them? They're all so strong...all of them. Amy, Chris, Adam...Jeff. Oh God, Jeff. He already hates me. He is gonna never forgive me." Matt looked over at Trish, eyes wide, the fear showing in his pale face.  
  
"Matt, Jeff does not hate you. He......"  
  
"Yes he does! He does. I heard him. I heard him tell you. He said he couldn't be alone with me and he was getting sick. He hates me."  
  
"Oh, Matt..." Trish reached over and embraced him. He clutched her holding so hard it almost hurt. She could feel him trembling. His hand gripped her hair pulling it in his panicky intensity. She winced and gently disengaged him. She expected tears when he looked up at her but his eyes were dry. He looked scared but he wasn't crying. She was a little afraid to know what he was feeling. Matt stared into her eyes wishing he could tell her what he felt. He didn't know what to do. He'd really blown it. He knew he was just steps away from being sent to some home somewhere. Why had he done this? God, his head hurt. 'What's wrong with me?' he thought. He couldn't take his eyes off hers. They were holding him, transfixed. What would she say if she knew? She was a best friend. She loved him. He loved her. Would she still if she knew? Would she still be here, ready with a word or a touch when he needed her? Would she still come to him when she...  
  
He sighed. He'd lied to so many people. He'd hidden so many things. He'd built walls so high even he couldn't see over them. He'd thought it was over when they came home, but no...obviously it wasn't. He watched her, marveling at the way the light sparkled off her hair. He had to have someone to talk to about this. Someone who hadn't been there. Could he tell her? He certainly trusted her but would she still...would she hate him? He reached around her neck again resting his cheek on her shoulder.  
  
"Trish..." his words were muffled, spoken into her neck but she heard him.  
  
"What is it, Matt?" she held him gently knowing he needed it. He held her tighter almost to the pain level again.  
  
"Trish, I...I need to..." he sighed and pulled away staring at her with frightening intensity. Searching. She had the unsettling feeling that he could see into her soul.  
  
"What is it, Matt? What is it you need?" His gaze went distant then far away and dreamy. He appeared to be focused on a spot just over her head. He took her hand running his thumb absently over her fingers.  
  
"Trish, it's just...I..." he stopped visibly struggling. His eyes flicked back to hers for a minute. "Trish, I'm so scared...I want to tell you but I don't want you like Jeff. I don't want you to hate me. I've just ruined too many people I love." She waited, knowing he'd tell her and that any words from her now would be meaningless.  
  
Trish watched Adam sleep as she waited for Matt to get out of the shower. The story he'd told her was incredible. How any of them had survived it in any way intact was beyond her. She'd known already of course but she'd never been given all of the details. He had said he'd explain it to her before but had managed to avoid her. She'd had no idea it was as bad as this. He'd started talking and it had all just spilled out. He'd cried when he told her but she didn't think he'd even realized it. It was as if something had surfaced from the depths of him and wouldn't stop until it had made itself known. He'd just told her and told her all of it. Oblivious to his own tears. Or hers. He'd cried himself sick twice telling her what had happened and she simply waited both times for him to come back into the room and take up his spot next to her on the floor. She'd felt paralyzed, unable to go to him, even though she'd wanted to. Finally, his tears and his words had tapered off and he'd leaned back against the bed exhausted, one finger tracing idle patterns along her arm. His voice when he spoke was a hoarse whisper.  
  
"Well, do you hate me now too, Trish?" he didn't look at her. He was too afraid of what he might see in her eyes. She felt herself starting to cry again. How could he think that she or anyone else hated him? Didn't he realize how much they all loved him? She shook her head and answered him, her voice as ragged as him.  
  
"No, Matt. No, I don't hate you. I love you..." she stopped, unable to go on. Her tears finally penetrated the fog of hangover, exhaustion, and trauma that blanketed him and he really looked at her for the first time since he'd started talking to her. Alarmed, never having seen her cry before, he reached over and pulled her over to him, his embrace this time one of worry not desperation.  
  
"Trish.." still hoarse, still a whisper but now focused away from himself. "Trish, don't cry, please..." he'd held her like that for a long time not knowing what he could say to make her feel better. In the end he'd simply done as she had for him and waited with her. Finally, her emotions under some sort of shaky control, she'd pushed him away.  
  
"Matt, I love you..." her voice was slightly sarcastic, "but you really smell funny. Could you slide over?" He'd stared at her, eyes huge and suddenly laughed.  
  
"You know I'm not surprised. Trish, what would I do without you?"  
  
She snorted. "I'm sure I don't know. Go get cleaned up, Matt, and then let's try to catch some sleep?" He'd nodded and gone to do as she asked. Now she waited, stretched out across the foot of the bed watching Adam sleeping soundly curled up on a borrowed sleeping bag. He'd picked Matt up from the floor and put him on her bed then just passed out himself. She'd never seen anyone go from alert to out cold so fast. She suspected the stress had a lot to do with it. He'd just finally caved in. Now, watching him she wondered what all this was really doing to him. 


	10. Roads chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
"Adam, what are you doing?" Adam paused jingling the keys in his hand.  
  
"Getting the car. I'm not walking Matt home."  
  
Amy sighed, "And just why can't he walk? It's all of five blocks. He managed to get himself there. He can get himself home."  
  
He shrugged. Amy was mad and nothing he said would really matter. "I'll be right back, Amy." She stepped in front of him and the look on her face made him cringe. He'd seen her this angry only once and there hadn't been much left of the person who had caused it when she was finished with them.  
  
"Adam, answer my question. Why are you making a special trip to get the car to drive him?"  
  
He looked at her for a few minutes tempted to just go around her. He knew there was little about her that was rational now. Deciding that an answer would be less hazardous to him, he nodded toward the end of the driveway. "I'm not bringing him through them. Not in the shape he's in right now. And I'm too tired to muck through the woods. We'll be right back. Okay?" he scooted around her before she could get a hold of him. He was very glad he wasn't Matt right now. He backed the car out of the driveway, fairly heedless of the people in his way. The way he felt this morning, they could get out of his way or he'd just back right over them. He really didn't care.  
  
Adam pulled up in front of Trish's house surprised to see Trish waiting alone on the porch. He'd left her and Matt together. He jogged up the steps to a frustrated looking Trish. "Okay, did he run away? Where'd he go?" He could feel the adrenaline surging and had to fight to slow down his breathing. Had Matt really taken off? Where was he?  
  
Trish saw what he was thinking immediately. "No, he's inside. He started to get sick. I didn't really want him to make a spectacle of himself." Adam shook his head, the anxiety draining off.  
  
"I'm gonna go get him, okay?" She nodded listlessly, her expression so downcast that he had to stop. Kneeling down next to her, he tipped her face up to him. "What's the matter, Trish? You okay?"  
  
She shook her head feeling tears prickling in her eyes. "No, Adam, I'm not. Just go get him and take him home, okay?"  
  
He stroked her hair gently wanting to help her but not sure how. "Can you tell me what's wrong, Trish?"  
  
She pushed his hand away. "I'm tired, my head hurts, and my best friend...just go get him. I'm okay."  
  
He straightened up, gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, and let himself in. Adam tapped softly on the bathroom door not wanting to startle Matt. He saw him kneeling in front of the toilet trying to hold his own hair back. His sickness was not letting up. It was usually that way with Matt. He sat down to wait, reaching down to touch Matt's shoulder. Poor guy couldn't even catch his breath. It just wasn't fair, especially considering what was waiting for him at home. After this, he'd be way too tired to cope with it. He leaned back against the wall stretching his long legs out next to Matt putting himself within reach. He wished he could convince himself that this was because of the drinking but he knew better. The sickness last night had been from that, this was just Matt. It happened so often now. He'd had hopes that they would all pull through. Things had seemed so much better lately, but now...  
  
He was startled from his brooding by a sudden grab of his hand. He looked up into Matt's pale eyes. Eyes that were bloodshot and swimming with tears. He smiled gently. "What is it, Matt? Is it better yet?"  
  
Matt laid his head down on his crossed arms. "Adam, I'm gonna die. I really think I am. That was so bad..." his voice trailed off, still out of breath. Adam looked up at a tap on his leg and reached up to accept the water that Trish was holding out. Nodding his thanks, he passed it to Matt who seemed almost too weak to hold it. He climbed to his feet while Matt got himself put back together and reached down to help him up.  
  
"Come on. I hate to do this to you but you have to go home now." Matt looked bleakly up at him, nodded, and let Adam haul him to his feet.  
  
Trish patted his back sympathetically. "Take care, honey, let me know if I can help."  
  
He nodded and eyed Adam apprehensively. Adam just shook his head, unable to offer him any encouragement. Wordless, they climbed into the car and headed home. Matt straightened up and his knuckles went white on the door handle. Amy was sitting out on the front steps and she did not look happy. Feeling his heart racing, he reached out for Adam. "I can't do this, Adam, I can't..."  
  
Adam glanced at him sharply, hearing flat panic. "Matt, it's gonna be okay. You have to calm down." He thought Matt looked about ready to have a heart attack, pale and shaky, eyes huge, and breath rasping in and out with frightening rapidity. He slid an arm around the trembling boy and pulled him close. "Matt, she's not gonna do anything. She's mad but she's been mad before."  
  
Matt shook his head. "I hope she hits me. I hope all she does is hit me cause I don't want to leave."  
  
"Leave? What are you talking about? Where do you think you're going?"  
  
Matt shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know. Adam..." he was clutching Adam's sleeve, nails digging through the fabric. "Adam, you can't let her send me away."  
  
Adam stared at him bewildered. Where did he get the idea that they were sending him anywhere? He shook his head, convinced the stress had finally driven Matt over the edge. Before he could utter so much as a word, the passenger door flew open.  
  
Matt literally felt his heart stop. Hands suddenly had him, bright flash of pain as his head hit the door, and then he was out and all he could see were her eyes. Struggling to stand, to breathe, dizzy and shaking, beyond terrified, he was hopeless. The hands gripping his shirt moved up to the back of his neck taking hold of the hair there and yanking him forward. Her voice was a hiss. "Inside! Now! NOW!" He stumbled as she shoved him toward the house struggling to stay on his feet. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He felt someone gripping his arm pulling him toward the door and looked up at a grim-faced Adam who only shook his head.  
  
The door slammed behind him and before he could breathe he was spun around and shoved hard against the wall. Wide eyed, he could only stare. Amy's hand, raised as if to slap him, was poised only inches from his face. Wordless, he waited praying that all she did was hit him.  
  
Amy was beyond angry. All they'd gone through and he had done this. She'd sat up all night pacing the floor raging at him telling herself that she had to calm down before she saw him. She'd felt relatively calm sitting out in the sun waiting for him but one look at his face had shattered her. She knew that look, the bloodshot eyes, the stupid glazed over expression. She could see it through the windshield. Now, looking at him standing against the wall, shaking and weak, it was all she could do not to just put his head through it. Knowing she was losing control she stepped back bringing her hand down. "Get him out of my sight!" she barked shooting a look at Adam and turning her back on him. "Just get him away from me before I kill him." Adam gently took Matt by the shoulder and led him upstairs, shaken to the core. What was going to happen now?  
  
Matt lay on his bed as he had for hours. Adam had stayed for a while not wanting to leave him but getting no real responses from Matt. He'd given up and gone back to Trish's, not particularly wanting to be around Amy either. Matt wished he'd stayed. He really could have used the support. Sighing, he listened to Amy venting her rage at him on everyone else in the house. She'd been more or less yelling at everyone since he'd come up here. Twice she'd come into the room looked at him with something akin to utter loathing on her face and fled the room again. A short time ago, he'd overheard a heated phone call, he knew not with whom, that had destroyed him. He'd heard with his own ears Amy, who he loved beyond all, telling someone that she couldn't handle him, that she'd done everything possible, everything she'd been told to do and yet he had done this. Three words out of her mouth had ruined him. Those words had been 'I give up.' Now, hopelessness having stripped most of what was left of emotion from him, he simply lay there apathetically letting the sounds of her hate wash over him.  
  
That doctor had been right. He'd told him and Matt had hadn't listened. Why hadn't he listened? Lying there hooked to tubes and wires, barely able to see straight, he'd heard this man telling him that there was every likelihood that he would be sent away to some 'facility' somewhere. That lots of people slipped and used drugs but most didn't try to kill their younger siblings. That there were serious doubts that he would even see his friends and family again. At the time, sick in pain and wanting to die, he hadn't cared. Later when everyone hadn't shown up, he'd been afraid but still so numb and dazed that the fear had seemed remote. He'd put the doctor's words from his mind when they had finally been there and had said they were taking him home. He'd never told them what had been said to him. As he'd never told them that the man had approached him again the day before he left to tell him of the media circus that had fallen upon the hospital and that, in his opinion, if he cared about them he wouldn't go with them. Unable to accept that as reasonable in any way, Matt had brushed him off only to be told, 'you should make sure you're on your best behavior, young man, because they have options. Be aware of that.' The following morning while waiting for Chris to pick him up, the same doctor had sat down opposite him and told him plainly and bluntly that a recommendation had been made to them for placement. That the 'pressure was on' for them to send him somewhere with 'professionals' who could 'help him learn to cope with his problems.' A place where he would be to 'minimize the risk to the rest of his friends.' And again the repetition, ' they have many options.'  
  
Options. Those words had sunk into his soul, trapped there, cycling. 'Options, they have options...' Those words had been the source of weeks of low key terror. The constant underlying anxiety caused by the thought that they might not want him. That he was here only because they felt he had to be. That if he messed up at all they might send him away. That perhaps they were just waiting for one of those 'places' to have a room for him. That he was on borrowed time in his own home. That the people who love him really didn't want him. Those words, the source of a bone deep depression he never even knew he had, draining his energy, sapping his strength making it impossible to be interested in anything, find any joy anywhere, denying him escape even in sleep.  
  
'Options.' A cloud hanging over his head constantly, blocking all light and warmth. And now she'd given up. He sighed, gazing dry eyed at the light above his head. He'd spent so much time trying to feel her out. Did she still love him? He thought she did. He trusted that she did. But how could she not hate him? Look at what he'd done? Look at poor Jeff, still bruised, still aching, even after all these weeks. And still afraid. Look what he'd done to him. And to Adam. Poor Adam, nonviolent and peaceful Adam punching holes in the walls. She'd be right to send him away. For all of their sakes. Right or wrong, she was going to. He'd heard it himself. The thought terrified him but he wasn't feeling it. All he felt was numb. Something inside him had died at her words. "I give up. I give up. I give up..." He couldn't stop hearing them and so he simply lay there unaware that somewhere deep inside him things were peaking, approaching critical mass.  
  
Adrenaline fading finally, exhaustion overcoming even this fear, he'd begun to drift finally losing himself into sleep. Amy's voice, loud and shrill, still reached him wafting past sleep dimmed ears, becoming part of his dreams.  
  
The noise startled him awake. Jeff's entrance into the bedroom had barely penetrated his ragged sleep, but now Jeff was slamming things around. Matt sat up and looked at his brother, faint concern all but eclipsed by apathy. Watching, Matt didn't say a word. Jeff had now grabbed a book and nearly threw himself into one of the chairs at the small table in the corner of the room. He put his book on the table with a satisfying slam and nodded his head at it for emphasis.  
  
"You okay, Jeff?" Matt found words and slowly got up from the bed walking towards Jeff. Something in Jeff's manner was forcing his hand. He couldn't just let him sit there. Jeff just stared at Matt as if he was seeing a ghost. His eyes were wet and rimmed with red. Matt could see he had been crying. Matt sat down on the edge of the table reaching for Jeff's hand. "Why are you crying? Did something happen?"  
  
Jeff angrily swiped at his eyes with the back of his wrist. "I'm fine, Matt."  
  
"Are you sure? I mean, I heard Amy yelling..." Matt trailed off watching as Jeff's eyes narrowed.  
  
"I think the whole block heard her. Thanks to you. Now leave me alone," Jeff snapped getting up and jumping onto his own bed burying himself beneath the covers.  
  
Matt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Jeff, what happened?" He'd seen the fresh tears as Jeff ran across the room. He was worried. "Jeff, please, just talk to me!"  
  
Jeff stuck his head out, anger stamped throughout his face. "She told me that I was...never mind. But it's your fault. I tried to leave to go to Shannon's and she told me that I was probably just going to go out and get into trouble. That I was just like you. I never even did anything. She's just crazy. You've just driven her crazy, just like you did Adam. You just get out of my face." He turned away and stung by his words Matt left him plodding back over to his own bed.  
  
This was ridiculous. She was mad at him. Only him. There was no reason to take it out on anyone else, least of all Jeff. He stared back up at the light again losing himself in its hypnotic glow. He'd almost drifted off again when Jeff's tearful voice roused him again.  
  
"Matt?" He turned to his brother alarmed to see that Jeff seemed to have slipped out of anger and into despair. He was openly sobbing gazing pleadingly at his brother. "Matt, why would she say that to me? What did I do wrong?"  
  
Matt shook his head sadly. "Jeff, you didn't do anything. She's just mad at me..." he sighed bitterly shutting his eyes. He was just so tired. His eyes flew open again at a sudden spate of evil tempered shouting from down the hall. When he opened his eyes there was anger storming in them. Enough was enough. He had to take care of this. He stalked out of the room and headed down the stairs.  
  
He found her in the kitchen. She was making just as much noise as Jeff had, if not more, slamming cupboards, dishes, just about anything she could get her hands on. His own temper flared seeing her acting this way. He left before she could see him and went looking for the others. It never occurred to him that his mind was clear and that he was making thought out rational decisions regarding other people's welfare. He never even noticed that the withdrawal induced and traumatic fog had lifted. He just wanted to find the others and make sure they were okay. He found them in the living room. He went over sitting down next to them. "You guys okay?"  
  
"We're okay. She's screaming at everyone though."  
  
"You should go on upstairs. I'm gonna go talk to her and things could get kinda loud. You might not be able to hear what you're watching if you stay down here."  
  
Chris looked at him searchingly for a moment and then nodded.  
  
He wanted them gone in case there was a fight. Sighing he listened for a moment to Amy's muttering and swearing in the kitchen. When he heard a crash, his own temper flared up.  
  
"AMY! Cut it out!" Matt stormed into the kitchen and up to Amy grabbing her arm. "Just stop throwing things around and say whatever you have to say! You're scaring everyone half to death. Just stop it!"  
  
"You...you just get out of my sight! I can't even look at you! It makes me sick to look at you! Who the hell are you to talk about scaring people?!" She yanked her arm away, turned away from him, and started to walk away. If she looked at him, she'd kill him. She knew it. Matt, however, was having none of it.  
  
"Don't you dare walk out on me!" Matt shouted. She wasn't going to do this to him. If she was mad at him, well then she was going to deal with it right here and now. No more of this, I can't handle it and walk away crap. He went up to her and got in her face. "SAY IT! I want you to say it!"  
  
"Say what?!" she turned back to him barely controlling the urge to slap him. "What do you want me to say?! I have nothing to say to you. I'm sick of wasting my breath. Just go somewhere with yourself and get out of my sight!!" She was staring at him, at his face, which was flushed with anger, his eyes, which were nearly rolling in his head, listening to his breath coming out in hitching gasps. He looked......insane.  
  
Too angry herself to give it any credence, she shook her head brushing him off. "Can the out of control act, Matt, I'm not buying it." She started out of the room again, and again he grabbed her. This time roughly. Enough to hurt.  
  
"Just say it! Stop taking it all out on everyone else and just say it! You're making everyone crazy! It's all because of me, we both know it so just say what you have to say! Tell me you hate me! I know you do! I can see it! You hate me and you want to send me away! Well do it then! I can't take this anymore! I can't take sitting around this house, knowing what you think of me, and waiting for you to one day say that's it you're gone! So do it! I dare you! Send me away! I know what you think of me, I know I'm only here because you think I have to be! I know you don't want me!" He shifted his grip from the tenuous one on her arm to a more secure hold on the front of her collar, yanking her toward him.  
  
"What are you TALKING about!" Amy pulled away from Matt and shoved him none too gently away from her. "Have you totally lost your mind?! You have haven't you?! Not only are you selfish, inconsiderate, irresponsible, reckless, and completely uncaring, you're also raving out of you mind?! You want to be sent away?! Great! Glad to hear it! Let me help you pack!" furious, her sarcastic tone turned vicious. "You're evidently as stupid as you're acting if you think anyone's sending you away. We have to keep you. You're completely right that I don't want to but I have no choice. I don't even know you. But guess what. You get to stay anyway just to make my life hell. Just get out of my face."  
  
"Don't lie to me! You know what I mean! I'm not stupid! You think I don't know? They told me! I've known all along!" Something, either his tone or his words, penetrated her anger and she began finally to really hear what he was saying. And then began to realize that she'd heard these words before, once. He'd spoken them to her at the edge of a nightmare. Taken aback, she fell silent staring at him. When she trusted her voice enough to speak, her tone was wary.  
  
"Why don't you tell me just what you're talking about, please?"  
  
He snorted impatiently. "Just quit pretending. Give me at least that much respect and tell me the truth."  
  
She shook her head. "Matt, I have no idea what you're talking about!"  
  
Unable to believe that she would carry this on even when he'd heard her, his frustration and temper got the better of him. He turned to leave, too angry to stay near her and she reached out, perhaps to stop him. To his heightened and over reactive senses, her hand was coming at him and his hand flashed out perhaps only intending to deflect her arm but instead connecting with the side of her head. The moment froze.  
  
Matt was speechless, unable to believe that he'd just hit Amy. Eyes wide, he shook his head and attempted a defense. He got nothing out. Amy, mute, shocked, and reeling from an emotional blow far greater than the physical one. He never saw it coming. One moment he was starting to apologize and the next he was crashing into the wall hard enough to knock him off his feet. Staring up at her horrified, his voice failed him. Mute, he watched her advance on him, closing his eyes at the last minute when her hand reached down to him.  
  
Amy grabbed Matt by the first available handle, his hair. Yanking him to his feet, she shoved him, limp and unresisting, into the wall. Shocked rage hiding from her the sound of his head striking the doorjamb, blinding her to the pain on his face as her hand lashed out once, twice, a third time, connecting with his face and head. Too furious to scream at him, too hurt that he would have hit her to think at all.  
  
Matt accepted her attack numbly, shocked for a moment, rendering him powerless. Wracked with guilt, he barely felt the blows delivered by hands that had always touched him lovingly. Then the moment was gone and survival instinct kicked in. Eyes flying open, he pushed himself away from Amy, hands coming up to cover his head. Off balance, the sudden movement bringing on a state of dizziness, he fell sideways ripping out the handful of hair she still clutched freeing him from her grip. Scrambling backward away from her, he hauled himself to his feet by the back of the couch and ran, Amy on his heels. He ran blindly not knowing where he was going and found himself starting up the stairs. Three steps up his foot slipped sending him tumbling, pain crashing into him as his body twisted on the stairs and for a moment he was unable to move. His head hit the step leaving him dazed, paralyzed by pain, looking into hate filled eyes. Defeated, he lay there looking up at her praying she'd just kill him. He couldn't live with the hate in her eyes.  
  
Amy, poised to strike, stood above Matt. Loathing was the only emotion she was capable of. None of the guys had ever raised a hand against her and the fact that it was Matt, the one she'd always been closest to, was killing her. Hand fisted ready to crash down on him, the sight of blood on his face suddenly penetrated the insane rage that surrounded her. His mouth was bleeding. Bleeding badly. She'd made him bleed. Rational thought crept in as she stared at him and slowly her raised fist lowered. She stared at him for a moment longer and then nodded.  
  
"Matt?" her voice was a hoarse croak. "You're right. You are not any longer living in this house. Because I will you kill you. Do you understand? I will kill you?" Not waiting for an answer, she left him there, screaming up the stairs. "Jeff, get down here, now!" as she slammed out of the front door. A few minutes later the sound of tires screeching out of the driveway filled the house.  
  
A/N: This chapter was so long I had to break it into two parts. So review me and I'll promise I'll get the next part up this weekend. 


	11. Roads chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.  
  
A/N: Thanks for the great reviews! Here's the next chapter as promised.  
  
Jeff pounded down the stairs, scared beyond belief. He'd never heard Amy's voice sound like that before. He came up short at the sight of his brother curled on his side halfway up the stairs trembling violently. Freezing, Jeff was almost afraid to go near him. Matt was shaking so badly he almost appeared to be in the grip of a seizure and Jeff was terrified of what he might find. Advancing slowly, every step torture, he crept toward his brother.  
  
"Matt?" his voice shook and he prayed Matt would answer him. "Matt, say something!" Fear for his brother overriding fear OF him, Jeff suddenly dropped down next to him reaching out and giving him shake. "Matt!! Matt, please, say something!"  
  
Matt's eyes opened, pain-filled and despairing, and reached a shaking hand out for his brother. "Jeff, go call Adam. Go now." He whispered the words unable to do more.  
  
Jeff nodded. "I will. I will. What is it? Get up, Matt, come on..." He took his brother's arm and tried to pull him up, jumping back at the ungodly screech from Matt. Eyes huge, never having heard anyone scream like that in his life, he grabbed onto the banister for support feeling himself beginning to black out. Biting his lip hard, he managed to bring himself to some sort of alertness and knelt down again. "Matt, tell me what happened."  
  
Matt's voice was nearly inaudible. "Call Adam, Jeff, I can't move. I can't move. I really hurt something. You have to call him......" his voice trailed off as his eyes closed and Jeff shook him again.  
  
"NO, MATT! Stay awake! I'm calling him right now! Just stay awake! Shane!" He called out to the house hoping he was there and soon saw him running towards them. The sight of Matt collapsed and bleeding on the stairs and Jeff pacing wildly, eyes frantic, froze him to the spot. Jeff shook him roughly making him jump. "Talk to him, Shane, just keep him talking! Just do it!"  
  
He ran into the kitchen to call Adam leaving Shane alone with Matt. Shane sat next to Matt shaking him gently. "Matt, you awake?"  
  
He opened his eyes struggling not to scream at the pain Shane's touch had caused him. "Yeah, Shane, I'm awake. Don't do that. It hurts."  
  
He nodded. "Did you fall down the stairs?"  
  
Matt glanced up at his face. "No, Shane. Hush now, please."  
  
"Jeff said to keep you awake."  
  
He sighed a little. Nausea was licking at the back of his throat. He was afraid an extra word might tip him over the edge. "I'll stay awake, I promise. But don't make me talk."  
  
Shane nodded noticing he'd gone considerably greenish. "Matt, you look like you're gonna throw up. You're not are you?"  
  
He whispered faintly, "I don't know," then fell silent knowing that if he uttered one more word, Shane's question would be answered.  
  
Matt's mind wouldn't let him go. Over and over, playing itself out in his head. All of the words between him and Amy. The pain in his back and neck was as unrelenting as the nausea welling in his throat, and his thoughts giving him no rest. He suddenly just couldn't take it anymore. Shoving Shane away, he hauled himself upright, unable to suppress the shriek that suddenly ripped out of him. He'd never felt pain like this before. God, how could this kind of pain not mean he was dying? His eyes met Shane's and he saw fear there, that fear making up his mind. He was doing it to him now. Now it wasn't just him, and Jeff, and Adam, and Amy, and Chris, it was everyone. He was ruining everyone. This was all too much. He pushed away Shane's concerned hands and dragged himself to his feet. Not sure he'd be able to walk and not really caring, he stumbled the rest of the way down the stairs continuously brushing off Shane as he attempted to restrain him.  
  
"Jeff!" Jeff heard Shane yell and stuck one finger in the ear not already blocked by the phone. "Jeff! Jeff get in here and help me!"  
  
Sighing, he hollered back in to him. "Shane, just hang on!"  
  
"Jeff!" Panic in his voice suddenly brought Jeff to attention. "Jeff, he left! Help me!" Jeff dropped the phone and ran but by the time he got to the front door, his brother was already gone.  
  
He really didn't know where he was headed. No particular destination in mind. He only knew that it seemed like it was taking forever to get there. Wherever there was. He had to stop once to throw up and it had left him shaking on his knees gasping for air, his breath coming in short bursts and whistles. His chest felt like it was caving in and he was pretty sure his eyes were going to swim away. They were watering so much. His head pounded and he rubbed them desperately trying to rid his vision of the stars that sparkled on the edge of his vision, not realizing that the rubbing was only worsening the condition. He felt so weak and was almost afraid he would collapse before he reached his destination. As it neared closer, he suddenly knew exactly where it was his body was leading him. The house was only a few hundred feet away but each step he took towards it made it feel like it was getting further away.  
  
He stumbled in the driveway and very nearly didn't make it back onto his feet. The struggle to make his limbs work was almost shutting off his breathing. God, his back hurt. Had he broken something? He could barely breathe. He reached the door and weakly pounded with a limp fist. He rested his forehead on the door and nearly fell inside when it was pulled open. She looked down at him. He was panting, literally. His tongue was slightly hanging out of his mouth and his breathing was shallow and labored. Shocked at the dried blood around his mouth, down his chin...the bruises forming in bluish patches on his face. She didn't say a word. Merely grabbed him by his arms and pulled him to his feet dragging him inside.  
  
Matt fell against her whimpering at the pain in his back aware that she was taking all his weight but unable to help it. It hurt too much to stand upright. Trish looked over his head toward Adam. What she saw scared her. The shock on his face had flitted briefly to anger and then to nothing at all. As she watched, he sank down onto the sofa and dropped his head into his hands. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to Matt. She'd deal with Adam later on. Stepping back slightly, she made him look up at her. "Come on, Matt, let's go get you cleaned up and you can tell me what happened." He nodded mutely and let himself be led into the bathroom.  
  
"Tip you're head back, Matt, a little bit...there you go..." Trish watched water from the hand shower sluicing the dried blood away from her friends face. The marks underneath all the grime were clearly finger marks. Sighing, she tried once again to find out what had happened. "Matt, c'mon. Who did this to you?"  
  
His answer, delivered in monotone devoid of all emotion, was the same one he'd been giving for ten minutes. "Nobody. I fell down the stairs." He curled himself up tighter, arms around knees, head on arms. It wasn't making it very easy to get him cleaned up. She'd tried to go with a wet cloth but the dried blood in his hair and the fact that he'd at some point thrown up all over himself had convinced her to just put him in the tub and shower him down. She'd tried to get Adam to come help but Adam had just waved her away.  
  
Matt finally told her, "Trish, I really don't care..." and had pulled off his clothes. Or tried to. Moving at all made him cry out and she wondered if something was badly enough injured to warrant a doctor. She'd helped him out of his clothes, making him leave his boxers on, and into the tub where he'd discovered that he couldn't reach up over his head to wash the blood out of his hair. Finally she'd taken the shower away from him and snapped.  
  
"Just don't even move, I'll do it." Now, trying to get the soap out of his hair with him curled in a ball, the last strings of patience washed away. "Matt, for heaven sake. Sit up! How am I supposed to do anything for you if you're all in a knot?"  
  
He glanced at her uneasily and uncurled himself very slightly. She sighed, feeling bad. Being yelled at was probably the last thing in the world he needed. She finished rinsing him off quickly and shut the water off.  
  
"Can you dry yourself off or do you need help?"  
  
He shook his head. "Trish, I don't even know if I can stand up."  
  
Frowning, she took his arm now wet and slippery and hauled him to his feet. "Come on, just hold on to me. Last thing you need is to fall and bash something open on the tub." He started to step up then froze, attention riveted behind her. Before she could turn, Adam was standing next to her reaching past her to grab hold of Matt much more securely than she had been.  
  
"I've got him, Trish. Can you find him something to put on?" She nodded and took off out of the room before he could change his mind.  
  
"Lemme have your foot, Matt." Adam waited while Matt got his foot off the floor and stuck it out for him to dry off. "It's taking you longer and longer to move, Matt, you really need to get checked out."  
  
Matt shook his head. "No. I'm okay. Can you hurry up? I'm freezing."  
  
"I could let you do it yourself. You'd be a lot colder then." He stood up and reached for the clothes Trish had brought in. "Here, get your arms up." He stopped at the gasp of pain from Matt when he'd tried to cooperate. "Aw, Matt, damn it! I know it really hurts...just move really slow and easy. You have to get something on. You can't walk around in your wet underwear."  
  
Matt nodded and together they managed to get him dressed although the effort had caused enough pain to wear him out more than once and to bring back nausea. Seeing him go white, Adam had cautioned him. "Breathe it out, Matt. If you get sick now, we have to do this all over again. Don't give in." Matt had nodded fighting it off and finally looked up into Adam's eyes. Adam smiled slightly and reached down to help him up. "Come on, Matt, we need to figure this out." Matt winced but followed Adam into the other room.  
  
Adam paced, phone pressed to his ear. Jeff's hysterical ranting went on and on. He'd long since given up trying to break in. He would just have to wait for the flood to taper off on its own. He'd just sat down to try to talk to Matt when the phone had rung and he'd picked it up to hear Jeff's voice raving at him. He'd listened while Jeff relayed his opinion that Amy had lost her mind, that she'd tried to kill Matt, that she was gone and he didn't know where she was, that Matt had run off and nobody knew where he was, that Matt was hurt and someone had to find him. In the background, he could hear yet more hysterics from Shane, scared to death. Thoroughly sick of it all, he glanced at Matt wishing for the moment that he'd never heard of him. Matt's idiocy had uprooted and scrambled the entire household. Turning his attention back to Jeff, he broke in loudly.  
  
"Jeff! Jeffrey!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's okay. He's here." The flow of words cut off.  
  
"He's there? Oh god, Adam, is he okay?"  
  
"I don't know, Jeff. But he's here. We'll take care of it."  
  
"I'm coming over."  
  
"No!" not meaning to shout, he lowered his voice. "Jeff, you have to stay there. Don't come over here. We'll be home soon."  
  
Jeff wasn't pleased about this and Adam tuned out the rash complaints again looking over at Matt who was watching him fearfully. What the hell did he have to be afraid of? What was up with that? Adam's patience slipped another notch. First he was sick, then he was scared, then he was in some sort of breakdown, now this. It was just too much. God, how he wished they'd just left him in some hospital someplace. He'd just had it.  
  
"What, Adam?" Jeff's voice was puzzled and so was Adam.  
  
"What? I didn't say anything. We'll be home in a..." He was cut off by a vicious cuff to the head hard enough to make his ears ring and, shocked, he dropped the phone turning to stare at Trish who's eyes were flashing.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
He shook his head baffled. "What? What did you hit me for?!"  
  
"Why'd you say that?!" She started out the front door, shooting him a death look. He stared after her, retrieved the phone, and found Jeff frantically asking him the same thing. Clueless, he broke in again.  
  
"Jeff, what are you talking about?"  
  
Jeff sighed, exasperated. "You can't mean that, Adam. You shouldn't say things like that. What if he heard you"  
  
"Said WHAT?!?!" he was by now thoroughly sick of all of them.  
  
"That you wished we'd left him, Adam, that!"  
  
Adam suddenly felt sick. Had he said that? He'd thought it. "Oh my god, Jeff...did I say that?"  
  
"Yes, you did."  
  
Without another word, Adam slammed the phone down and ran after Trish. He hadn't realized he'd said it out loud. He found Trish standing on the front porch, furious. "Trish, where did he go?! I swear to God, I had no idea that came out of my mouth. I was thinking it...where is he?!"  
  
She nodded down the road. "He took your car. I tried to stop him. See what I got for my trouble?" She turned to him and he saw her lip was gashed open.  
  
"He hit you?"  
  
She nodded. "I tried to take his arm. He hauled off and belted me one and took off with your car. Now what the hell do we do? Why'd you say that?! Adam, how could you have said that? He's already so scared..."  
  
"I know. I know. I didn't mean to. It just came out. I was thinking out loud..." Panic set in as he realized what he'd said and what condition Matt was in. "Trish, we have to find him."  
  
She shook her head. "No, not us. I'm calling the police. You better get home and...no. No don't. The police will want to talk to you. Go call them from the cell phone. Damn it, Adam. That was the stupidest thing you've ever down!" She stalked into the house stopping to grab and throw him the cell phone. He caught it and started to dial thinking only that this time, they were going to lose him forever and it was his fault.  
  
A/N: Don't worry. Matt will be okay. = ) 


	12. Roads chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda and Kim are mine.  
  
A/N: I would have updated sooner but my freaking internet has been down since Friday. Sorry = (  
  
Matt just drove. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care. Just away. Away from all of them. The feeling in his gut when Adam had said that...he'd never felt anything so horrible. Something inside him had died. He'd felt it. Unable to think, unable to reason, eyes blinded by tears, he just drove not caring where he went, not knowing if anything was in front of him, an incoherent plea in his soul to whatever god was listening to take him out of this. To finally end it once and for all.  
  
Whatever god was listening was looking out for Matt because two hours later when the car ran out of gas he was still alive. Miraculously he'd avoided hitting any other vehicles, stationary objects, or people, and had stayed on the road. As the car sputtered to a halt, he surfaced from the traumatized daze he'd been in, realizing that he'd been driving the car, that he was no longer driving the car, and that he had no idea where he was. He managed to get the car pulled over just as it rolled to a halt and then sat, head splitting, back and neck screaming in agony. How long he would have sat there, head back, eyes closed, wishing he were dead, he didn't know. The world had narrowed to a pinpoint of pain. Coherent thought had left him. He never noticed the creeping cold or the fact that his hands and feet had gone numb. He very likely would have frozen to death but for the sudden nausea that welled in his throat jerking him upright with a scream of pain in his shoulders.  
  
From her seat at the kitchen table, Amanda could see the car careening wildly down the road. Ignoring the buzzing of her friend's voice from the phone she held to her ear, she watched as the car sputtered, stalled, and veered off the road finally stopping on her front lawn. Amazed, she remarked into the phone.  
  
"Kim, some car just drove up onto my lawn."  
  
"What? What happened?" Kim wasn't sure of what was going on.  
  
"I don't know. It looks like a younger man. He looks like he ran out of gas. He's just sitting there in the car. Should have seen him a minute ago. He was all over the road. I wonder if he's all right? Hang on. I'm going to go see."  
  
"Don't go out there, Amanda. The guy could be dangerous."  
  
Amanda wasn't really listening to her friend. She was too busy looking at the man in the car. She couldn't really see him clearly but he looked like he was in pain. The expression on his face told her that he was hurt. "Kim, what's he gonna do?"  
  
"Just hang up and call the police to come get him. You don't know who he is or what's wrong with him."  
  
"Mmm..." was the absent response. She continued to watch him leaning toward Kim's suggestion of calling to police when she saw him suddenly open the door and fall out onto the ground. Eyes wide, she watched him haul himself partway up on the open door. From her view, she could see clearly that he was fairly young and definitely sick. Without another word to her friend, she dropped the phone and ran out the door.  
  
He pushed himself out of the car, more in a panic to get away from the feeling than to avoid making a mess, and grabbed onto the door as his numbed legs gave out. Holding on for dear life helpless in the grip of the sickness that had claimed him, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him. When an arm suddenly slipped around him, he screeched, leaping back and lashing out, the blow knocking the other person into the car and knocking him backward onto the ground. He scrambled frantically backward, animal terror driving him, still retching violently. Strong arms reached out and stopped him, this time pinning his hands holding him tightly and adrenaline surged. He had to get away. His struggles were futile. He was too weak even with the rush of panic. He couldn't escape the arms that held him. He struck out again connecting with what he didn't know but this time the blow was returned, a hand connecting with the side of his face, pain shocking him into sudden stillness.  
  
"Stop it! Just calm down! I'm not gonna hurt you!" The voice was anything but gentle and he tried to shove himself away. The hands tightened on him. "It's okay! It's okay, just calm down! Just calm down!"  
  
He wasn't calm but exhaustion was quickly replacing adrenaline and he found he was beginning to relax into the arms of whoever had him. As the tension went out of his body, the grip on him loosened, letting him find his own position. Cold and uncomfortable, he pushed away hauling himself to his feet. Dizziness and nausea swept over him and black began to fill his vision. Again an arm slipped around him and the voice spoke again, this time close to his ear.  
  
"Come on. Come inside..." Startled again, he tensed and his hand came up only to be roughly grabbed and held. "Don't! Don't hit me. I'm trying to help you. If you stay out here you're going to freeze. Now stop that and just walk. You won't fall. I've got you." He resisted briefly and the voice raised a little. "I'm not going to hurt you but you will freeze if you stay out here. Your car is out of gas, you don't have a coat, you're obviously sick, and I'm not gonna talk about it anymore. I'll pick you up and carry you in if I have to. Now let's go." Too weak to resist any longer, Matt let himself be led up to the house.  
  
Warmth hit him the second the door opened. Grateful for it, he sank down onto the couch, head in hands praying that, whoever she was and whatever she was going to do, she would let him stay inside. Dizzy and drifting, he jumped out of his skin when something touched his face. His eyes flew open to see an object rushing at him. The hand he raised to defend himself was instantly grabbed hard and held.  
  
"Don't. Just don't. One more time and you lose the hand. You hit me once and got away with it. Do it again and you lose the hand. Are we clear on this?" Her voice was firm and he didn't doubt for a moment that she meant what she said. Shocked, he yanked his hand away mumbling under his breath.  
  
She nodded, "Did you call me a bitch? Well, I've been called that before. Now look at me for a minute." He complied, almost afraid not to.  
  
Amanda saw him flinch when she approached again with the warm cloth that she held in her hand and felt a little guilty for having snapped at him. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. It's only a washcloth."  
  
He nodded his head slightly, still edgy. "What are you going to do with me?"  
  
She knelt in front of him and started wiping away dirt, sweat, and blood from the lip she'd split when she hit him. As the grime washed away, evidence of existing cuts and bruises came into sight. Someone had already been at him. She felt a chill run down her spine. What had she gotten herself into? Added to that, she was very much afraid she knew who he was. "I'm not going to do anything to you, Matt. You are Matt, right?"  
  
He just stared at her not quite understanding her, "Yeah, I am. Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Amanda. Hold still now."  
  
Matt looked at her, waiting for more information, but she had fallen silent. His eyes flitted around the room looking for what he didn't know. His thought racing. 'I've really done it now. Who is she? God, I don't know where I am. So cold. Why can't I get warm? God everything hurts.' Amanda's hand came at his eye and he flinched a little.  
  
Her voice came again, the hard edge gone now, soothing, "No no, it's okay."  
  
He looked away, his mind refusing to give him peace. 'God I want to go home. I don't even know where home is. Who is she anyway?' Matt accepted her ministrations wordlessly. Somehow the warm cloth against his face was soothing. Something had to be, his mind was jumping all over the place. 'I want to go home, God. I want to go home.' It was nearly a prayer replaying in his head. He was pulled from his reverie by a voice.  
  
"...anyway?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said whose car is that, anyway?"  
  
His eyes narrowed, irrational anger suddenly swelling in him. What business was it of hers? He was already in more trouble than he could stand. Thinking she was berating him, the anger in him took control. "How is it any of your business! Think I stole it? It's not bad enough that I'm a drugged out freak, now I'm a car thief?! Where the hell do you think you're coming from?!" He had moved forward toward her, fists clenched, and she scooted back out of range if he should strike out. She was completely taken aback. He had been all but comatose two seconds earlier and now he was yelling at her looking for all the world as if punching her lights out was the thing he most wanted to do.  
  
She felt herself being sucked into his anger and snapped back, "I'm coming from my front lawn. The one you just crashed into. Remember?! You pull up here, fall onto my lawn, practically pass out, and it's none of my business how you came to be here?!"  
  
"Don't pull that with me. You're the one that brought me in here. I didn't have anything to do with it. You should have just left me there!" Exhaustion suddenly replaced the fury in him and he fell back against the couch cushions, too drained to continue, unsure even what he was yelling about.  
  
She was too stunned to speak. Not suffering Matt's exhaustion and trauma, her anger was far less quick to back off and drain away. Knowing that she was inches away from just smacking him one, she climbed to her feet storming into the kitchen, her mind a whirl. 'What the hell did he get himself into? What the hell have I gotten myself into? He's insane. He has to be. People don't just go off like that. God, what happened to him? there must be people looking for him. this is just great, Amanda. Just great. What the hell are you going to do with him?' She sat brooding on her counter, raiding her memory for anything she knew about him.  
  
She had heard a few rumors about Matt's emotional stability or lack thereof. She didn't really pay attention to the rumors but now wished she had. It was something about Matt and Jeff and a drug problem but other than that she wasn't sure. The severity of the cuts and bruises on him pointed to some sort of abuse. He was obviously very unstable. The last thing she needed was another strung out junkie on her hands. Especially one that was world famous, probably worth quite a bit of cash, and probably being hunted for high and low by parents, friends, police, the damned FBI for all she knew. She let her gaze fall on him again. It was hard to look at him sitting in her living room and see him as the Matt Hardy everyone knew. He was not the star that was world famous, the object of rumor and mystery. He was a broken man. And now, he was a man who was indeed her problem. Whether she liked it or not, he was here. And he was right, she was the one who had brought him here. Sighing, she went back into the living room approaching slowly. Despite her care, he still startled, this time cringing back into the couch instead of striking out. Frowning at how erratic he was, she knelt in front of him.  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you but I need to put something on those cuts. They're going to get worse."  
  
When he spoke, his face and voice were insolent. "Oh, why do you care? Why don't you just leave me alone?"  
  
"Cuz, I don't want you bleeding all over my living room, thank you." There was a tinge of self-pity in his tone that brought out irritation in her. Whatever his problems were, they weren't going to be helped any by falling into 'nobody cares' syndrome, and worse, it would stand right on her last nerve. "I'm going to get something for you to put on them. If you'd rather do it yourself, since I don't care and all..."  
  
He winced at the sarcasm.  
  
"...that would be just fine, since it doesn't look as if your hands are in any way broken. I'll be right back." She headed down the hall to the bathroom, absurdly close to laughter. Something about the annoyed look on his face when she dared to speak to him as if he were human. As she piled peroxide and Band-Aids into her hands, she wracked her brain for a way to get him talking. She really was curious to know how Matt Hardy came to be on her front lawn, beaten and broken, driving a car that she was pretty damn sure wasn't his, but she didn't think he was likely to come right out and say it.  
  
Matt didn't know what to make of her. One minute she was threatening to deck him, the next she was soothing, then she was making fun of him. He knew part of his confusion was his own rattled brain and it really bugged him. Somehow he knew that holding his own with this woman was going to be hard and he wanted his wits about him. He watched, amazed, as she trooped into the room and dumped an armload of first aid supplies in his lap.  
  
"Here," she handed him a small mirror. "Clean yourself up so you don't have to deal with my hands coming at you and give me your phone number. I need to call your house." She was unprepared for the reaction she got. She was suddenly showered with Band-Aids, first aid cream, and peroxide as he jumped to his feet, halfway to the door before she could get her act together to stop him. She caught him with his hand on the doorknob, grabbing him around the waste with a wince knowing the contact was probably going to get her belted again. "Come on, Matt. It's okay. I won't call anyone."  
  
He pulled away from her yanking the door open. "No, you won't because I won't be here. I'm sorry. This is not your problem." He tried to move through the open door but met an obstacle that was Amanda. She stood there unmoving.  
  
"Nope, go sit down."  
  
His frustration mounted, rapidly turning to anger. "Get out of my way! You can't keep me here! This is kidnapping or something!"  
  
She found herself laughing. "Good! If you think you're being kidnapped, go call the cops and tell them where you are. Phone's right over there. Otherwise go sit back down."  
  
He stood there, indecisive, her laughter having taken the edge off his panic and anger. "Amanda, you can't call them. You can't. You have no idea what's going on. Please. I know I can't leave. I don't even have any place to go. But please, don't call them." He was hanging on the door handle now, no longer trying to escape but using it for support. She saw how close to collapsing he was and gently took his arm.  
  
"Come on then. Sit down and tell me what I've gotten myself into. I won't make any decisions until you've told me what's up."  
  
Defeated, he nodded and let her help him back into the living room. He settled back on the couch, picking up the mirror and the peroxide and silently set about patching himself up. Knowing he was stalling, Amanda sat on the floor in front of him and plunged in.  
  
"Listen, I've heard some stories and..." Amanda stopped for a second, "What happened? I don't mean to pry but you look horrible. All I know is what I've heard on the radio and to be honest, I wasn't interested enough to pay much attention."  
  
He snorted derisively. "Well, thank god I'm not shattering any illusions." He took a deep breath in, "The stories you've heard are probably not that far from the truth." He fell silent for a few moments. "A couple of months ago I was on top of the world."  
  
She nodded, "And now?"  
  
He laughed but there was no humor in it. "Now, I'm not."  
  
"Well, no offense, sweetie, but that's pretty obvious. Tell me what happened."  
  
He stared at her, eyes drilling into hers. He wanted to tell her. He didn't know why but the thought of getting it all out to someone who wouldn't be shattered by it, who might actually be able to say something that made sense, who wouldn't cry...suddenly it seemed of incredible importance telling this woman. He silently set all of the first aid supplies on the floor, never breaking eye contact, and curled himself up on the end of the couch. He gestured for her to sit on the other end. He wanted her on his level. She got up and situated herself, careful not to touch him.  
  
"I'll tell you but don't say anything, okay? Not until I'm finished." She nodded and he sighed deeply. "Okay. This is what happened..." Playing absently with a string hanging from the quilt that was thrown over the back of the couch, he told her. 


	13. Roads chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda is mine.  
  
Amy gazed at Adam dozing in the chair. He'd been a huge help keeping the things under control. God knew she was barely under control herself. She'd have never been able to do it alone. Chris had been gone for what felt like years talking to the police trying to get some sort of grasp on where Matt might have gone. They'd given the plate number and the car's description but so far nobody had seen anything. The one comfort was that the car hadn't been involved in any accidents as far as anyone could tell. Sighing, she thought about waking Adam and telling him to go to bed where he could at least be comfortable but in the end thought better of it. Sleep wasn't easy to come by. She wouldn't wake him unless she had to. Smiling a little, the thought 'he's an angel' flitted through her mind. She smiled at him when his eyes opened.  
  
"Why don't you go on to bed. Try to get some good sleep." He shook his head, mute. His eyes spoke volumes and she nodded. She understood. There would be no real sleep for her tonight either. Amy sank down on the couch next to Adam. He reached for her hand squeezing it gently.  
  
"He's gonna be back, Amy. He's gonna be fine. You know that, don't you?"  
  
She smiled. "Thank you, sweetie. I hope so." They sat in silence for a few minutes pretending to watch TV then he nudged her gently.  
  
"Amy, when I fell asleep just now, I kept..." He stopped, voice breaking, and she saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes. "I kept dreaming he came back...then I'd wake up and he'd still be gone. Over and over. Amy...I can't even start to tell you how sorry I am. This is all my fault." He rubbed hard at his eyes. She didn't need to see him crying. "I never should have said that."  
  
She shook her head slipping an arm around him. "Adam, you may have said an unfortunate word, but I...no, honey, no blame lies on you. Trust me. We all said a lot of things we didn't mean."  
  
He nodded disengaging himself gently from her embrace and settling back against the couch cushions. "So," he turned to her smiling gently, "We sit up together, do we?"  
  
She smiled back. "Yes, I guess we do." They sat back both lost in their own thoughts, both keeping silent, each for the sake of the other, pretending everything was okay.  
  
Jeff lay staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried. He had even taken Benadryl and he still couldn't sleep. Somehow it seemed to him that this was all his fault. He'd been the one to get all weird on Matt. He'd been the one that made him feel so bad he had to run out and get into trouble. He'd left Matt, he should have known better. He'd been the one who started it. It was even him that had gotten into Matt's stuff back in that hotel. If he hadn't followed him, none of this would have ever happened. He refused to listen to the tiny voice in his mind, the voice of reason, telling him that none of it was his fault. The many tones of guilt drowned out that one tiny voice. Matt was gone. The police couldn't find him. Chris couldn't find him. He had to be somewhere. Sighing, he closed his eyes again.  
  
Adam paced alone in his room. He knew better than to even try to sleep. Amy had finally told him to go to bed claiming there was no good reason for everyone to sit up. Adam knew she'd sent him away for an entirely different reason. He'd heard her crying before he even made it up the stairs. Feeling terribly guilty, as if it all rested on his shoulders, he'd crept the rest of the way to his room. His fault. All of it. No matter that she had told him differently, it was his words that had sent Matt running. How could he have even thought such a thing? Let alone said it. Frustrated and scared, he couldn't sit down. Somehow, some way, he had to find him. He'd been driving. Where could he be? He didn't have money. Adam knew that. And the car had been on a quarter of a tank. He could only have gotten so far. But in what direction? He glanced at the clock. After midnight. He couldn't call anyone. Nobody needed him waking them up because he was too edgy to sleep. He'd have bet money that Trish was up though. Maybe she was online. Nodding, he switched on his computer and signed himself on. Sure enough, there she was. The seed of an idea forming in his mind. He began to type to her.  
  
Amanda, too, lay sleepless, listening through her open door to the even heavy breathing of the man asleep on her couch. She'd mulled over the story he'd told her for what felt like hours, curled up in a chair watching him sleep. He certainly looked ragged and she didn't doubt for a minute that he'd been through hell and back. But from what he'd told her, all he was doing now was hiding. He'd given up. His lack of effort was what was driving his family insane. Not the drug problem, not what he'd done to Jeff. They'd already gotten through that, judging by his words. It was his apathy, his lack of any motivation that was sapping their patience and strength. He was becoming a burden. She could understand their short tempers and frayed nerves. Watching someone you love die by the days was horrible and the helplessness you felt easily translated itself into anger. Especially when the person in question was letting himself die and making no effort to stop it. She knew. She'd been right where they were now. Sighing, she thought back to what she'd said to him. He'd rapped out the story mechanically, robotically, as if all the meaning had been leached out of the words. She didn't doubt it had. He didn't appear to care about much, least of all himself. She'd listened carefully letting him finish before saying a word. She knew that her response wasn't what he'd been looking for. He'd been looking for sympathy. What he got was practicality.  
  
"Matt, sounds to me like you're doing a wonderful job feeling sorry for yourself."  
  
He'd looked at her wide eyed and shocked. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
She'd noticed he was shivering, whether with cold or reaction she didn't know but she had reached up behind him pulling the quilt along the back of the couch over him. "Means that it sounds to me as if you've been going along expecting everyone to cater to you, coddle you, and take care of you, but you're not doing a damned thing to help yourself. Can I ask you something?"  
  
His eyes had narrowed and a decided crease had formed between them. He was mad. Still, he nodded, "Go ahead."  
  
"Well, Matt, how long has it been? Since you got home?"  
  
He scowled at her. "Couple months."  
  
"Okay, how do you feel? I mean physically? Are the after effects of coming off the Valium gone?"  
  
He nodded. "Pretty much. I still get sick when I ride."  
  
"Okay, car sickness. How's your head feel? Can you remember things?"  
  
He nodded again cautiously. "Pretty much."  
  
"And how's the confusion?"  
  
"Mostly gone."  
  
"So..." she paused for a minute trying to judge his mood. "You feel pretty good overall?"  
  
"No, I don't feel good. But I feel better."  
  
"So is there any reason you have to sit in the house and stare at the walls?"  
  
He simply looked at her for what felt like an age and then turned his face away. "You don't understand."  
  
She let it go, preferring to remain silent. She did understand. She understood exactly. But at this point, she didn't feel he needed to know that. Instead of pursuing it, she tapped him on the shoulder. "It's getting late. Have you eaten at all today?" He'd told her no and although balking somewhat had let himself be talked into eating a little. It hadn't been the best idea. An hour or so after he'd eaten, it had all come back up. She wasn't sure why. He didn't seem sick to her. She suspected it was either nerves or habit. She'd eyed him critically from the bathroom doorway noting his lack of surprise or real distress. Shaking her head, she'd tossed him a washcloth, handed him a glass of water, and remarked curtly, "When you're done, come on out to the kitchen. I want to talk to you." She'd felt a little like a bully but she couldn't shake the suspicion that it was all some sort of play for attention.  
  
Tossing and turning now, she replayed those events and more. What was she going to do with him? His family must be frantic. God knew what kind of trouble she could get into having him here. She didn't need this. The talk she'd had with him hadn't helped much. She'd asked him to call home. Flat refusal. She'd asked him to let her call his home. Flat refusal. She'd tried to find the number and was triumphantly told that it was unlisted and she'd never find it. Wanting to smack the smug look off his face, she'd struggled to keep her voice even.  
  
"Matt, I could call the police and tell them you're here. I'd bet cash money that they're looking for you." That had given her the first real glimpse of the man behind the attitude that she'd seen all night. His eyes had gone far away for a moment and then he'd looked into her eyes with an expression so lost and so hurt that it was all she could do at that point not to hug him.  
  
He'd smiled a little and told her softly, "Amanda, I really wish you wouldn't. I honestly don't want to know that they never even called. I don't think I could take that. Amanda, they don't want me. They told me. They TOLD me." She'd had no words for him then but had put the phone down and led him back into the living room. He'd fallen asleep a short while later. She wished it were as easy for her.  
  
A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter. The next one should be longer. Oh, and no this is not gonna be a mary-sue. = ) 


	14. Roads chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda and Clark are mine.

Adam ran when he heard the doorbell, intercepting Chris and jumping to rip open the door. He grabbed a very startled Trish by the hand and literally dragged her into the room. Planting himself, as well as Trish, in front of Chris, Adam blurted out his plan.

"Chris, we think we can find him. You have to let me take the van. We _know _we can find him."

Chris' eyebrows danced somewhere at the level of the ceiling lights. "How do you come up with that? You can't know where he went."

Adam nodded at Trish who pulled from her bag several sheets of computer paper. "Look, we've been talking and, knowing what kind of condition he was in and how much gas the car had, we think we can narrow it down."

Chris waved them away. "Playing detective won't do it. This isn't a game. Trish…"

Sensing that she was about to be sent away, Trish shoved the paperwork in front of his face. "Just look at it! Give us a chance, we've been working on this for hours. You haven't found him, the police haven't found him, we think we can. At least listen to us!"

Chris gazed at their faces for a moment. They certainly didn't look as if it were a game they were playing. They looked dead serious. Nodding, he gestured to the table. "Let me get Amy…" Adam and Trish exchanged a look. It had all seemed perfectly reasonable over the net. Would it now in the harsh light of reality?

"Adam, honey, you can't expect this to work!" Amy was frustrated. It sounded to her like they thought some form of telepathy was going to find Matt. They seemed to be judging his whereabouts by what was going through his mind. The whole thing sounded like a bad TV movie to her. Adam sighed, opened his mouth to try again but Trish beat him to it.

"Amy, listen. Please. Don't just hear us, listen to us! Matt was so upset. You didn't see him. I did. Look what he did to me! Think about it. He was completely irrational. He wasn't making any kind of decisions. He couldn't have been. Think about it." Amy nodded cautiously and Trish went on. "We figure he'd go for the easiest route possible. He'd be making choices way back in his mind, not really thinking about what he was doing. I know he wasn't thinking. If he had been, I wouldn't have a fat lip. We know what direction he took off in. We think we can pick out the path he'd have taken. I don't think he'd have been looking to lose anyone. He was just running."

"You can't know that."

"I think I can. I think I can second guess him and Adam's even closer to him than I am."

"Amy…" Adam broke in gently, "We really think we can find him. At least we should try. Look…" He tapped the huge printout of the street finder spread out on the table. "Just look at our reasoning." Amy sighed and nodded. "We think that, given his state of mind, he'd go for the straightest, least intrusive on his head, path. We know he went this way. He'd have come to this." He indicated an intersection. "If you were Matt, and you were hysterical, didn't know what you were doing, where you were going, which way would you go?"

Amy finding herself following their reasoning in spite of herself reached out and tapped a road. "This one."

"Yeah, you see? We have it marked off. We did that for every turn and we think he'd have ended up around in here about the time he ran out of gas."

"Well, how do you know he didn't get more?"

Trish broke in. "Because the track pants I gave him to wear had no money in them and he sure didn't have any of his own."

Adam frowned. "The only thing is here…if we're right. When he got here he could have gone any number of ways but we want to at least try. We think we can at least find the car if he ditched it."

"And for all we know, he could just be sleeping in the car waiting for morning."

"We should at least go look. It can't hurt. We could find him and even if we don't at least we're doing something. Not just sitting around here going crazy."

Amy pulled out her last weapon. "It's after midnight."

"So? We're up. If we find the car and Matt's not in it, we'll come right back and tell you where it was."

The look on her face was indescribable. He needed to do this, she could see it. Sighing, she glanced at Chris who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange. She finally nodded. "Alright." She tossed the keys to the van to Adam who started out the door and nearly fell over Jeff who appeared silently as a ghost.

"Adam."

"Yeah, Jeff."

"You're going to look for Matt?" His voice, barely a whisper and very near tears, broke Adam's heart. He pulled Jeff out onto the porch with him and they sat together on the steps.

"Jeff, I don't know if I can find him. We're gonna try though."

"Will you take me with you?"

Trish shook her head silently. They'd already discussed this. They had no way of knowing what they might find. The worst had occurred to both of them. "Jeff, sweetie, that's not such a good idea."

"Don't talk to me like I'm four, Trish. Why not?"

Adam looked over his head and into Trish's eyes. She knew he was going to tell Jeff the truth. "Jeff, because we don't know we're going to find him. And if we do, we don't know what he might have done."

Jeff's already pale face turned a horrible bleached white and for a moment, Adam thought he was just going to faint dead away. Jeff looked up at him, eyes tear filled, but when he spoke his voice carried an edge. "Adam, Matt's not going to have done anything. He's tough. He's okay." The conviction in his voice was unmistakable and contagious. Adam found himself looking into eyes that suddenly seemed very wise and nodded his agreement.

"You're right."

"I know I am. But I don't want to go with you. You better go before I change my mind again."

Adam nodded and stood up. He and Trish started for the van only to be stopped one last time by a call from the porch.

"You guys!" They turned and Jeff shot them both a look that cut their souls. "You guys find him. You find him and you bring him back." He turned on his heels then and vanished into the house.

Amanda had finally achieved an uneasy doze, when the sounds from the living room brought her to a muddy alertness again. Mumbling to herself, she got up intending to shut the door. Matt didn't only show up on her doorstep in pieces, he also talked in his sleep. Perfect. Her hand was on the knob when the mumbling suddenly became a screech. The sound was so filled with pain and fear that she was nearly afraid to move and for one foggy moment believing that someone was actually killing the man. A second scream pulled her from her sludgy semi consciousness and sent her flying into the living room. Freezing for a moment at the sight that met her eyes, she quickly assessed the situation. Matt wasn't on the couch. He was up and at the window that ran along the wall behind it. Hands beating the glass, wordless shrieks tearing out of him over and over. Afraid he'd put his fists through the window, she ran over edging in between him and the glass, his fists now landing on her. He seemed not to see her, the wordless cries going on and on. She caught his hands in her own none too gently and pushed him struggling wildly away from the window.

"Matt!" her voice, despite the fact that she'd nearly shouted, had no effect and he fought her, nails ripping at her face going for her eyes. Now struggling to protect herself as well as prevent his going through the window, she resorted to the only thing she could think of. Shouting his name one more time as loudly as she could, she swung out at him, her fist catching the side of his head knocking him onto the floor. She was beside him in an instant. "Matt, wake up!" She knew this kind of nightmare. She'd been through this before. His eyes, still blank and wild, held hers and she knew he wasn't out of it yet. Hating herself, she shook him hard and shouted his name again. Once, twice, a third time, and finally his eyes cleared and he caught a breath shoving himself back away from her. She nodded. "It's okay. It's only me. Are you awake?" He only stared, gasping for breath, dripping with sweat, body trembling. "Matt!" her voice was firm. She scooted closer to him and this time her touch and tone were more gentle. "Matt, it's okay. It was just a dream. It's only me. Look around you."

His voice shook when he spoke. "I don't know you…..I don't know you."

She nodded. "I know. I know how it seems. I'm going to turn on the light okay?" Slowly, careful not to scare him anymore than he already was, she moved to a small table lamp and switched it on. Soft golden light filled the room. He looked up then truly awake now and she saw confusion in his eyes. She reached a hand down to help him up noting that from head to toe he was soaked. His hair was literally dripping. He also looked as if at some point during the ordeal he'd vomited. He took her hand, his glance voicing his confusion and fear. "Matt, you don't know what's going on, do you?"

He shook his head. "No…Oh god…" He was looking down at himself. "Amanda…"

She led him down the hall to the bathroom. "It's okay. You had a nightmare. Happen often?"

He nodded. "Often enough, but what…" He held out his hands and she saw that they were swollen, red, and bleeding.

"I don't…" she sighed. "You were pounding on the window glass. Do you know what the dream was about?"

He shook his head. Now that he'd stopped sweating, he was shivering. She opened a small closet door, took out two towels, and handed them to him.

"Shower's right there. You're a total wreck. Run it hot. Get warmed up. I'll find you something to put on." He hesitated and she stopped. "You okay? Can you manage this?"

He looked over at her, eyes wary, and nodded. "I can manage."

"Go on then. I'll just put some dry clothes right inside the door. So don't lock it."

He nodded again and slipped into the little room, shutting the door behind him. A moment later she heard the shower come on. Satisfied, she rummaged around her things finally finding some old sweats and a t-shirt. She cracked the door open setting the clothes down on the edge of the sink. Over the sound of the running water, she could hear him crying softly. Feeling bad, she quietly shut the door. Maternal instincts were telling her to go in and see if she could help. Common sense and the wisdom of experience were telling her that he could and should calm himself down. Babying him wouldn't do a damn bit of good and was probably largely responsible for the situation he was in now. Wandering the living room inspecting the damage, she was relieved to note that when he'd gotten sick it hadn't gone anywhere but all over him. She pulled the wet blankets off the couch, threw them down the stairs to the laundry room, dragged a sleeping bag out of the hall closet, and laid it out on the couch. That done, she sat down and dialed up the phone. It picked up on the 11th ring.

"H'lo, and this better be good."

She laughed a little. "Clark, you never change. It's Amanda."

"Amanda!" The voice was instantly alert. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Relax, Clark, I'm fine." Her tone changed then some of the worry she felt coming out finally. "Clark, I have someone here. He's right up you alley. I don't know. He seems to be a lot like Mikey was and I'm really…you think you could come out?"

"What, now? It's twelve thirty!"

"Yeah, I know what time it is."

"Mandy, tell me what's going on."

"Okay, Mandy, where is this boy now?"

She heard alarm in his voice and couldn't blame him after what she'd just filled him in on. "He's in the shower."

"Alone?"

She laughed. "Yeah, C, I'm not taking a shower with him."

"Well, is it safe, Mandy?"

"Hell yes." Her tone turned sarcastic, "This is my house we're talking about. He won't find so much as a baby aspirin or a safety razor in there. The most he may find is a bottle of Flintstones vitamins from 1992 and if he wants to try to overdose on those he's more than welcome to chow down the whole bottle. I don't think he's suicidal anyway. But he's surely one fucked up boy and he could use someone to talk to. Face it, Clark, he needs you."

The voice on the other end sighed. "Thanks, Amanda, you always find me strays. I'll come out. What's his name, anyway?"

She laughed. "His name's Matt. You'll come out in the morning?"

There was an uncomfortably long pause and then, "Matt what?"

She heard the suspicion in his voice. "Matt Hardy. Now will you come out or not?"

"Mandy!" He all but shouted at her. "You have that missing Hardy in you house?!"

"Well, yeah, I told you what happened. What was I supposed to do, leave him outside to freeze?"

"Well, for god sake, did you at least call somebody?"

"Nope."

"Why not?! Amanda, half the county is looking for him! You can't just hide him!"

"I'm not hiding him. Clark, he asked me not to call anyone and promised me he'd call home in the morning. I'm just giving him a night to try to screw his head back on a little bit." She heard him groan.

"Mandy, tell me I'm hearing you wrong. You didn't call the cops because he asked you not to?"

"That's absolutely right."

"Mandy…okay." She heard defeat in his voice. He knew her well. "I'll be out in the morning if you're not in jail by then for kidnapping or something."

She giggled a little at that. The thought had also occurred to her. "Don't you call anyone, C, I mean it."

His reply was terse. "I wont. I'll see you both in the morning. Be careful, Mandy."

"I will." He hung up without another word and she put the phone down just as Matt wandered in. His eyes instantly clouded with suspicion.

"Who were you calling?"

She snorted. "It's my phone. I'll call anyone I please and it's none of your damn business. But if you're afraid it was the police or you parents, relax. It was a friend of mine."

"At one in the morning?"

"He's a very _good_ friend."

Matt curled back up on the couch. "Amanda?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry about this."

She nodded. "It's okay. What were you dreaming? Do you remember?"

He shook his head. "No. Whatever it was, it's gone now." He stretched out on the sofa gazing out at the stars. "Hey there's blood on the window. Did I do that?" He gazed at his hands again as if they belonged to someone else. They were certainly banged up, that was for sure.

She nodded at him. "Yes, you did and there's Windex and paper towels under the sink in the kitchen." She noted with some relief that he was moving better. There was a fluidity that hadn't been there earlier. She watched him effortlessly reach down under the sink for the spray bottle and straighten back up without a flinch. Whatever injury he'd done to himself, falling on the stairs or so he'd said, seemed to have been minor and well on the way to healed. Watching him spray Windex on a paper towel, fold it, spray it again, and then put the bottle back, she was also taking note of how his mind was working. There was no hesitation in anything he did and his actions were efficient and deliberate. She herself would have hauled the whole bottle in, so he was thinking more efficiently than she was, she thought with a mental chuckle. She watched him wipe off the small bloodstains on the window, toss the paper towel with unerring accuracy into a small trashcan, and then climb over the back of the couch to plop back down on it.

Catching her surprised stare, he grinned somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry."

She only nodded again. He was quick thinking, quick reacting. There was no drug haze left in this man. Whatever was wrong with him now was pure emotion. Sighing, not sure whether she was glad of that or not, she flicked off the light.

"Try to go back to sleep, Matt. I'll be right here."

His voice in the dark surprised her. "You're sitting up?"

"Yeah, I am. If you slide into another nightmare, I'd like to wake you up before it reaches the climbing the walls stage."

He laughed. "Well, if you're gonna be up, would you talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Being alone in the dark really doesn't thrill me."

She chewed it over for a moment, decided, and got up to sit cross-legged on the floor back leaning against the couch. "Okay, Matt. You told me all about you. Want to hear about me?" There was an odd tone to her voice. One he was quick to understand.

"You have something to tell me?"

"I do if you're willing to listen."

"I will."

Nodding, she began to speak.

Adam and Trish didn't realize it but they'd followed Matt's route almost exactly. True to their suspicions, he'd followed the past of least resistance all the way out of the city. And true to their worries, they'd veered away from his path right where they'd feared they might. Now, having driven considerably further than they'd felt necessary, a fight had broken out.

"No, we're not going to keep going! Adam, we've gone miles and miles past where we said we'd turn back. We did it wrong! Will you stop being so stubborn?"

Adam hissed, exasperated, and pulled the car over. "Trish, what do you want to do? Go back and start all over? Don't you understand? I have to find him!"

"I think you'd better calm down because if we keep going this way, all we're gonna find is the state line!"

"Don't you shout at me!"

"Then don't shout at me!" She slammed the door open and stomped out. Another minute and she was gonna hit him. Why he had to be so pigheaded was beyond her. Adam, thinking much the same about her, brooded from the driver's seat. What neither of them knew was they had gone far less off course than they realized and less than a mile away, the object of their search was just stepping out of the shower.


	15. Roads chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda and Michael are mine.

"Jeff, what on earth are you doing?"

Jeff jumped, startled. "Nothing. I couldn't sleep so I came out here."

Amy took a seat next to him on the porch swing. "Baby, it's one in the morning. And it's cold! Aren't you freezing?"

He shook his head. "Look, I just put my pajamas on. I'm warm."

She sighed and nodded. "Mind if I join you?"

"No, I kind of wanted to talk to you anyway." He toed the swing gently, the slight back and forth motion soothing. "Amy…" he paused gazing up at the treetops. "Did we do this?"

"What do you mean, sweetie? Did we do what?"

"Make Matt like this. I was talking to some people and they were saying it must be something wrong with 'the family' so I was wondering…"

Amy sighed sitting back. "Jeff, I'd love to be able to tell you that the person was wrong but to be honest I just don't know. I don't know what's happened to Matt."

"Then it could be us? It could be me?" he looked at her, eyes bleak.

"You? Jeff, what could you have ever done to influence any of this? No, sweetie, it's not you."

He looked skeptical. "You just said you didn't know. If you don't know what did do it, how do you know what didn't do it?"

"Jeffrey, you're giving me a headache. Why don't you tell me why you think it was you and I'll tell you why you're mistaken." He laughed a little and slid over closer to her. She smiled and pulled him close to her. "I told you it was cold. Want to go in?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine like this. Amy…I really do think this is my fault."

She waited, listening to the sighing of the wind and the creak of the swing. They'd meant to oil that hinge for ages. Still hadn't done it. She was glad. It was hypnotic, comforting. This swing had soothed a lot of troubled hearts over the years. She wasn't surprised that it had drawn Jeff. Now, head hanging, he looked so desolate. It was all she could do not to stop him and tell him 'no, no, just shh. It's all okay.' She held off the urge. He needed to get this out. He'd been remarkably silent throughout the whole ordeal. His voice, when he did speak, was a harsh whisper, bitter and guilt ridden.

"I shouldn't have ever followed him back at the hotel. If I hadn't done that, this wouldn't be happening. It started the whole thing. I'm the one who made him so mad. I'm the one who made him want to kill himself. And now this. I'm the one that freaked him out. That made him take off and go get drunk. I'm the one who left him so he could run away. I never should have done that. I'm the one who was bugging Adam and made him say that about Matt. It's all me…" He ignored the tears that had started to trickle down his cheeks. He didn't care. He looked up at her, heart and soul in his eyes. "I never meant any of it. I never meant to hurt him.

She held him gently for a few moments fighting down anger. How could he be blaming himself? When she felt she could speak without shouting, she gently pushed him away a little taking him firmly by the shoulders and looking directly into his eyes. "Jeffrey Hardy, you listen to me. You and NOT to blame for ANY of this. You did not start anything by following him to that room. You were trying to help him. You did not make him beat you half to death and you did not make him take drugs. You very likely did save his life that night. If that hadn't happened for all we know he might still be doing it all. What you did make him do was stop. And that's the one thing that most needed to happen."

"But…"

She shook him a little. "You just shut up and listen to me." Her words were harsh but her tone was gentle. "You did not make him want to kill himself. He made himself unhappy. He owns that, Jeff, not you."

"No! He felt like that because of what he did to me!"

"That's right! Because of what HE did to you. Jeff, you were the victim there. Not Matt. He did it!! You did not!!"

Eyes wide, he simply stared. He'd never seen her eyes flash like that. He'd never seen her look so much like she meant anything. He could see that she wasn't angry. He wasn't sure what she was. His eyes never left hers as she went on.

"Jeff, you did not make him freak out and take off. He got upset that you were afraid of him. Fine. You have every right to be. Again, it's something that belongs to Matt, not to you. If he had any sense at all he'd have heard what you said, seen what you were doing and…" She paused for a moment, the reality suddenly striking her showing her what had been wrong all along. "He'd have done what he could to fix it if he was all that upset. Instead he ran away to avoid having to cope. Jeff, sweetie, it's not you. You didn't make Adam say that. Adam said that because he was frustrated with Matt. He'd reached the end of his rope and once again Matt decided to run away rather than face it. You did the best you could and it was plenty good enough. I left you in a situation you didn't have a hope of handling. And it was my actions that sent him out of the house. My words and my actions, Jeff, not you. Never you. Please, don't try to take on everyone else's stuff. You worry about things you did, not things other people did. Did you put the pills in Matt's mouth and make him swallow them?" He stared wordless. "Did you?"

"No."

"Or tell Adam to make sure and say something that would hurt?"

"No, I told him he shouldn't have said that."

"I suppose you must have given him the keys to Adam's car and told him to run away then?"

He giggled, then. "No, of course not. I see what you mean."

"Do you?"

"Yes. But I feel bad. I want it all to just…not be."

She pulled him in tight again. "Baby, I want that too. But it is. And somehow we have to fix it."

He pulled away and looked into her eyes again. "We have to? Or we have to help Matt to do it?"

Smiling, she nodded. "I guess that's right."

His expression darkened again. "First, we have to find him. He's okay though. I know he is."

"How do you know that, sweetie?"

He looked out at the stars. "I'd know if he wasn't. I'd feel it. He's…" He looked at her intently. "He's here," he touched his heart. "And I'd know if he was gone. He's okay. They just need to bring him back." He settled back against her again wanting nothing more now that to sit there with her arms around him and watch the stars.

Adam drove slowly up the road for the sixth time. They were on the last one. They'd gone back to what they considered the point of error and driven systematically in each direction seeing no sign of Adam's car. They were tired, frustrated, and snappy with each other. Trish gazed out at the now familiar terrain.

"Adam?"

"What."

"We need to stop now. He's not out here. Face it. We were wrong."

He shot her a death look. "You just wanna give up, then?"

"No, Adam, I don't but we have been up and down this road six times!! I'm going to start to hallucinate soon. Now just quit! It was a good idea but it didn't work. We're not going to find him this way. We were wrong." Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat. It was all she could do not to just slap him.

"We were not wrong!" He slammed both hands down on the wheel and the urge to slap him intensified. "He's around here somewhere! I'm not giving up, Trish. I'm not."

"Adam…" she sighed not knowing what to say. She knew how he felt. She didn't want to give up either. But this was just crazy. "Well, can we get off this road then? We've been up and down over and over. There's only two houses out here. It's creepy. It's too dark to make anything out anyway. Everything looks black."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. No point in staying. But I want to check out those other two roads one more time."

She nodded knowing she had no real choice. As they turned out onto the main road again, she noticed that someone had parked their car half onto their own lawn. Snorting at some people's parking abilities, she turned her attention back to the road ahead of her.

Amanda leaned back against the couch watching her toes wiggle in the moonlight. Every so often a car would go by, headlights splashing into the room. She hoped that once she started, Matt would listen. Chances were he thought he was the only one out there going through this. Would it help him to see that it happened to other people? And that they made it through? She hoped so. Maybe he'd feel a little less lonely. God knew, it was a lonely situation. She turned a little wanting to be able to see his face.

"Matt, I was in a really bad car crash. I ended up having a lot of surgery, had a lot of bones pinned. They put me on painkillers that unfortunately turned out to be addictive." His eyes flickered to her face for an instant then back out the window. "I can't speak for you but I never knew it was happening. Not until it was way too late." He nodded slightly, his eyes going far away and she knew she'd triggered memory. "Matt, I guess I'm trying to say that I know where you're coming from. I understand what you're feeling." He rolled his eyes a little classic 'yeah right' and she grinned. "Roll your eyes all you want. You don't have to believe me."

He turned to her then. "What'd you do?" his voice was soft, his expression open.

She turned a little more toward him. "Well, I didn't tell anyone. At first, I didn't understand what was happening. By the time I did, I just had to get the stuff at any cost. I had to. It was terrible. I lied. I stole. I did whatever I had to do. And then I found street drugs. They worked just as well, some of them better, and I felt like my prayers had been answered. It was so hard to convince a doctor, six months down the road that I was still in pain. Still needed meds. So street drugs solved that little problem." Her voice became bitter. "I pushed my family away. The only thing that mattered were my friends. My friends with the pills, and my friends with the pot, and my friends with the coke, and the booze. I was out of control and I didn't even know it. Or care. Anyone that tried to tell me I just pushed away. To my mind, they just didn't understand." She picked absently at the nap of the rug wondering if this was doing anything other than stirring up her ghosts. When she'd been silent for a few minutes, she felt his hand gently touch her shoulder. Smiling a little at the gesture, she reached up and took it in hers. He squeezed her fingers briefly and took his hand away.

"What'd you do? You're not like that now. Didn't anyone even try to help you?"

She nodded. "Oh yes, my family tried everything. I just didn't want to listen. Oh sometimes part of me saw what was happening and wanted more than anything to stop it, but…it never lasted. Know what it took?" He shook his head. "Someone had to die."

A passing car reflected silver in his eyes as he turned to her startled out of the relaxed pose he'd been in. "Die? Who?"

She sighed. "I was stupid enough to get behind the wheel and the person who was with me didn't survive what happened to us. I landed back in the hospital and that was the beginning of clean and sober Mandy. I went through hell. But knowing that I'd killed someone, it was big enough to make me want to stop. It made me want to die many, many times. But I guess I'm too important for that." She laughed. "I have far too much to do. Making people miserable right here on earth." She gestured around her. "All the paintings on the walls. I did them. All the art. It's all mine. I fill my days working with things I love, creating things. I don't let myself brood and I don't let myself worry about it. But not a day goes by that I don't miss it. That I don't crave it. It won't ever go away. But Matt…" She looked him full in the face. "It's only one part of my life that I don't have. I have so much more. And that's what I focus on."

He nodded. He understood. "Amanda, what all stuff were you into?"

She sighed. "What wasn't I? Pills, pot, coke, heroin…" At his shocked look, she nodded and showed him her arms scarred with needle tracks. "Not very pretty, is it?" He shook his head, mute. She smiled a little. "At least you never got this far. Going on what you've told me, it would've made you mean. You'd have been one of those guys who's out killing people."

He shook his head. "No, no not me. I'm not like that."

"Really? Would your brother tell you otherwise?"

He sat upright at that, eyes flashing. "That wasn't fair! I'm not doing anything to you. Why are you…" he broke off suddenly, too mixed up to know what he wanted to say. She continued, not willing to let him shut off.

"It gets worse. Care to hear it?" He only stared at her and she went on. He didn't settle back comfortably the way he had been. He stayed leaning up on his elbow tense and expectant. "I have a brother. His name's Michael. He went to MIT for computer programming. So bright. So much potential. But he got stressed and kind of fell into alcohol and then drugs. He couldn't handle the strain and the chemicals eased it for him. I guess."

Matt nodded. That he could understand. "That was me, Mandy…" his voice was soft and for a moment she wasn't sure she'd herd the nickname.

"I know it was." She settled back against the couch again. This was sapping what little energy she had left. "I couldn't understand why Mikey would let that happen to him after seeing what had happened to me. It caused a huge huge rift between us. I was fighting to get myself back and he was killing himself. My parents had long since written me off, so I couldn't ask for their help."

"Written you off? They just let you go?"

She nodded. "Why is that such a surprise? Look at your family. Look what they told you."

He shook his head emphatically. "No, no, no. My family isn't like that."

She was smiling inside despite the painful memories. "Matt, you said that they didn't want you. You told me…"

He waved a hand at her cutting her off. "You don't know them, they were just…" he stopped suddenly realization dawning. His eyes went wide and she saw his eyes fill up. "She was just mad. She didn't mean it. Oh God…" He looked at her unable to speak. She reached up and touched his cheek.

"You can call them. I'm sure they understand that you, too, were only mad."

He sank back against the couch cushions staring at her, incredulous. "Did you try to help him?"

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering suddenly. "I went all the way out to Massachusetts to try to get him and bring him home. I saw first hand what he was doing to himself. He didn't even try to hide it. His dorm room was littered with beer bottles and rolling papers. I begged him to come home but he wouldn't come. My parents were of no help. They just left him at school. When I got home, I went to my parents and begged them to bring him home. They didn't even want to talk to me but they finally agreed and when he got home things only got worse. He found the drugs here. It didn't matter whether he was at school or at home. He was a mess. It killed me to see him. He was so smart and could have gone so far. I tried reasoning with him, screaming at him, shaking him. Nothing worked. He wouldn't listen. Kept telling me that it wasn't happening to him. That I didn't understand."

"You couldn't do anything?"

She shook her head. "What could I do, Matt? It was his life. His choices. I couldn't stop him no matter what I might do. I couldn't make him want to stop. I couldn't make him save himself. The only one who could do that was him. And he didn't want to. My parents wrote both of us off." Her voice broke then. She had a hard time accepting that her parents had given up on both of their children. She could accept it within herself but admitting it out loud made it real. He heard the emotion in her voice, then and reached out, pulling her near him. It was such an automatic response for him to reach out to someone in pain that he never even questioned it. She let him hug her for a moment then pulled away realizing that she'd been sitting and talking for hours. Her throat felt like someone was striking matches on it. She tried to clear her throat, made a horrid croaking sound, and laughed. He didn't smile back but he got up padding to the kitchen finding a glass and filling it up. He handed it to her wordlessly and crawled back into the sleeping bag. She'd given him a lot to think about and his mind was whirling. He watched her go out to the hall closet and pull out another sleeping bag. She threw it down on the floor next to the couch and eyed him questioningly.

"Do you mind if I just crash out here with you? I don't really want to be alone." He nodded his approval and she crawled in, turning to face him. "Matt, take what you can use from what I told you. I don't know that it will do you any good at all, but…I'd hate to see you go the way he did. I couldn't help him. I'd like to think I could help you."

He nodded. "What happened to him, Mandy?"

She sighed. "He got better for a time. A friend of mine, the one that I was on the phone with, helped him out a lot. Eventually though, he went back to it. He died, Matt. A year ago." Matt saw tears in her eyes and not knowing what else to do simply reached out and took her hand. Half an hour later saw them both soundly sleeping.


	16. Roads chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda, Clark, and Daniel are mine.

"Daniel! Get down!! Come on, I haven't got all day!" The boy on the rope bridge looked down, laughed, and scampered to the other side tripping lightly down the ladder. He jumped from about six rungs up landing lightly on his feet in front of the man who had called him. A man who stood smiling and shading his eyes from the bright morning sun. "What're you doing up there so early? Come on, let's get going."

The boy, Daniel, nodded grinning. "You did. But you wouldn't want anyone breaking their neck on the ropes course would you? Someone told me there were ropes out up there."

"Oh. Got 'em fixed okay?"

The ropes course was Dan's baby. He took immense pride in maintaining it in tiptop condition. "Yeah, it's all good. So…" he grinned again picking up his pace. "Where we going, C, so godawful early?"

Clark sighed. "We are going…" he paused rubbing his forehead, "to see Mandy." He laughed at Daniel's crow of delight.

"I think things are about to get interesting." Dan paused, his good humor dimming under a look of concern. "She's okay, right? She's not in trouble…"

Clark smiled, "She's fine. Here…" Approaching a rather large van, he tossed the boy the keys, "You drive. First stop, coffee. Next stop, Mandy. You remember the way to her house?"

A grin and a nod was his answer as together they set off along the road.

Jeff's reproachful stare was making Adam acutely uncomfortable. He refused to look up from the book he was pretending to read but he could feel Jeff's eyes boring into him. It was giving him a decidedly crawly feeling. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he snapped the book shut.

"Jeff! Would you cut it out!?"

Jeff who didn't realize he'd been doing anything at all leaped about a foot out of his skin. "What?! I'm just sitting here!" his raised voice piqued Adam's temper and his tone became unpleasant.

"Yeah, well you're staring at me!"

Jeff slapped the back of Adam's book knocking it over. "How can you tell? You've got your nose in a book!"

"Jeff, just cut it out."

"I'm not doing anything."

Adam glared, "Well, go in the other room or something!"

"No, I have just as much right to be here as you do."

Adam was just opening his mouth to retort when Jeff with no warning suddenly jumped out of his chair and flung himself headlong into Adam flinging his arms around him. Eyes wide, shocked and completely baffled, all of the evil temper draining at once, he hugged Jeff back feeling the younger man's body trembling. Gently releasing Jeff's arms, he pushed him away a little brushing tears from his cheeks.

"What's the matter, Jeff. Why're you crying?"

Jeff shook his head rubbing his arm across his face. "I don't know. I don't know. I just thought I'd wake up and he'd be back."

Adam sighed bitterly. "I know, Jeff. So did I. I just don't know where he is. We really thought we'd find him." His eyes glazed over then shut as his mind drifted. He was startled back to reality by a touch on his face. His eyes flew open and met Jeff's, bare inches from his own, a stare so intense that it sent chills down Adam's spine. Jeff had gently placed a hand on each side of Adam's face and was pulling him close until his mouth was nearly touching Adam's ear.

"You tell me…" his voice, a breath of a whisper brushing the side of his face, "you tell me the truth. You tell me if he's ever comin' home again."

Matt's sleep was deep and dreamless. An end to a bone deep tension had somehow been achieved, replaced by a relaxation that was near complete and a stillness nearly as complete. The only motion was an even rise and fall of breathing. A peace had settled into him somehow and he felt warm and truly safe for the first time in months, here in a stranger's house no less.

Sounds of crying. The high wall of sleep crumbling to the sound of sadness. Who was crying? Nobody. Nobody, soft arms of sleep gently drew him back down.

Sun slanting through the window into his eyes woke him. Blinking up at the unfamiliar light, for a moment he didn't know where he was. Not his room. Not his ceiling, his window, his sounds, his smells. He lay for a moment while his sleep fogged mind cleared and realization set in. Sudden apprehension claimed him. What would happen now? Nothing. His heart told him what his soul needed to hear. This woman who had helped him would not just abandon him. Somehow he felt sure of that. For the first time, he felt that things might be all right. Not questioning why he felt that, he stretched, wincing at the screaming of abused muscles and turned over onto his belly dismissing thought as sleep already licked at the edges.

A soft sound from the floor opened his eyes again. His gaze lit on Amanda, curled on the floor in her sleeping bag. He really saw her now as he hadn't before and for the first time thought to wonder about her. How old was she? Did she live here alone? She seemed to but how could he know? His eyes took in her brown hair, so much like his own curling softly around her face. A face that was troubled even in sleep. A closer look showed him tears. She was crying. In her sleep. Alarmed, all thoughts of sleep banished. He sat up too quickly for the screaming in his back and slid down to the floor. Once there, he froze. If she were Amy stuck in a bad dream, he'd have acted immediately but now he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know her. Didn't know if it was all right to touch her. Sighing, he watched as her distress became more apparent. She was actively sobbing sounding as if her heart were breaking. He vaguely remembered a dream of someone crying. Had it been her? Feeling guilty, he reached out very gently shaking her shoulder. Guilt became a frantic rush to escape when she let out an unearthly shriek and bolted upright, her hands suddenly coming at his face and taking him by the throat.

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. Another one will be up shortly!


	17. Roads chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda, Clark, and Daniel are mine.

A/N: I'm leaving to go on vacation tomorrow and I'll be gone for 3 weeks. I'll will be home for one night in between the 2 trips and I promise I will try my hardest to post that night. Thanks for your patience!

"Look at them out there." Adam's voice was bitter. "You'd think we were in a zoo. How can they just come to stare at us like that?"

Amy gently pulled him away from the window. "Don't even look at them."

"We'll have to say something. Tell them something. You heard what they were saying on the news."

She nodded. Matt had been seen by quite a number of people staggering from home bruised and bloodied. No one had seen him come back and the speculation as to his runaway status was big news. As if the nearly superhuman observational skills of the assorted vultures weren't enough, the police department 'regretted having to tell them that' one of their officers had already made a statement to the press, as well. She turned her attention from the window, to Adam who she was alarmed to see was developing the 'look'. The 'look' was the expression Adam's face tended to adopt when he had a plan brewing. Fearing the worst, she crossed her arms leaning back against the wall.

"Okay, spill it. What're you thinking?"

"That I need to go back out."

"Adam, why? You and Trish are exhausted…"

He stopped her. Something was niggling in the back of his mind. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Wait. Just wait." He picked up the phone, brow knit, and dialed Trish.

"I don't see it, Adam. What are you talking about? Can't you just tell me?" Trish was tired and not in the mood for guessing games. "I don't see anything out there that makes me think anything at all except that I wish I had shotgun."

Adam had asked her to look carefully at the flock of people at the end of the drive and tell him if anything made her think anything. She'd looked. She had no idea. Now impatient, exhausted, and beyond worried, she turned on him, voice harsh.

"Just tell me what you're thinking. I don't have time for this."

Stunned, he backed away a little, voice dropping. "That's the problem, Trish. I don't know. I keep looking out and something's making me think of last night. That we need to go back out. I almost know what it is but…"

She nodded and pointed. "That car. That's what you're seeing. We drove by one like it parked on someone's lawn. Six times, I believe, but I only noticed it clearly as we were finally leaving. I only remember it cause it was parked weird."

He stared out at the car she was pointing to. Big, black, nondescript. Why would that make him think he had to go back out? He sighed defeated.

"No, I don't think that's it. But something…God I hate myself! Why am I so stupid? I don't even know what I'm thinking!!" He flung himself away from the window heading out the door when Trish's voice, now shaking and extremely strained, stopped him.

"Adam? Adam, come back here, come here now!"

"What is it, Trish? What's the matter?" He glanced out the window looking for what could have upset her so. "Adam? Adam, that car. That's what you're seeing. That's what you're seeing! It is that car. Adam!"

He shook his head confused. "What about it, Trish? Trish, calm down!" He hurriedly reached his arms around her. She'd gone so white and so breathless that she looked about to keel over. She nodded trying to slow her breathing down.

"Adam," she was gasping suddenly short of breath. "On a dark night on a road with no street lights to two people too tired to see straight, what do you suppose your car might look like?"

"My car?" she nodded, still trying to get her breath back.

"Your car."

"Well, I suppose it might look…" he stopped as her finger came up pointing out the window. He followed the point and nearly screamed. Breath catching in his throat, body suddenly trembling violently, he turned and ran.

"Stop it! Will you just stop? It's only me!" Matt shoved Amanda's hands away from his face desperately trying to keep her nails away from his eyes. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't know what was happening but something in him knew it wasn't her fault. Fighting tears and the urge to hit her back, he frantically tried to pin her hands all while backing away.

"Amanda, it's okay! Just stop, it's okay!" He knew his words were doing no good. She wasn't hearing him. Whatever this was, it had taken her over. He felt his back bump up against the wall and groaned. He'd backed himself into a corner. Panic beginning to set in, face and neck already bleeding, hands coming at his eyes and throat again and again, faster than he could fight her off. Reaction took over and before he could think his hand flashed out connecting squarely with the side of he head knocking her backward. He jumped away from the wall as she began to come at him again and he was on her in an instant grabbing her and pinning her where he had been. No longer worried about hurting her, he gripped her wrists hard feeling the small bones grind in his hand and shoved those wrists against the wall.

"Amanda!" He shouted the name no longer caring if he scared her awake. She had to come out of this. "Amanda!…" He stopped, ducking as one of her hands came loose and went again for his face. "Amanda stop it! It's me! For God's sake, WAKE UP!!" Her nails dug into his cheek, bright flash of pain and he felt blood warm on his face.

"Stop it! You have to wake up, Amanda! It's okay. It's just me!" He was using all of his weight to pin her to the wall and still she was getting free. Her strength was enormous. Knowing he couldn't hold her without hurting her and thinking that if he loosened up a little she might calm down, he backed away from her very slightly. Fighting to lower his voice, he said her name softly. "Mandy, it's okay. It's okay. It's only me. You just have to wake up now."

His words, far from calming, seemed to fuel some inner fire and her struggles became more intense. Screaming obscenities and yanking her arms from his grip, she threw him off her and ran for the kitchen. He started after her coming up short when she whirled around, in her hand a fillet knife. He froze then, eyes wary, unsure of what to do, every nerve in his body screaming.

"You son of a bitch." Her voice was cold. "This is the last time. The last time I let you hurt me." He backed away slowly knowing now that whoever she was seeing wasn't him and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop this. Swearing softly knowing the stakes had just been raised to the level of one of them being badly hurt, perhaps killed, he watched her coming at him.

"No, no. I know where I'm going! Just stop, please!" Adam's temper was short. Amy's endless stream of questions was getting to him. She'd badgered him about where he was going. Did he really remember? It had been so late. Was he sure he was going the right way? Was he sure he was supposed to turn here? He knew she was nervous but he was about to go off the road. He'd been driving, listening to this for over an hour and his patience was stretching thin. Now feeling guilty because he'd snapped, he gently took her hand. "I'm sorry. But I do remember." They drove in silence then, apprehension stealing words, anxiety the only touchstone for each of them.

"Let her go!" the voice came out of nowhere, full of menace, and Matt's heart almost stopped. He had her hand and the knife along with it but she'd already cut him more than once and the blood was making it too slippery to get a good grip. Afraid to let go, terrified that she'd stab him or somehow herself and now faced with someone he couldn't even see wanting to kill him by the sound. His control snapped completely.

"I can't let her go!" his voice was an outraged scream. "If I let her go, she's gonna fucking stab me! Get the knife away from her!"

Clark now accurately seeing the situation quietly slipped behind her and without warning took her in his arms pinning her tightly. Shrieking her rage as Matt finally wrestled the knife away from her, she fought desperately this time unable to get away. Clark had her in a grip she couldn't break out of. He looked at Matt, saw how scared he was, and made every effort to keep his voice calm.

"She's not seeing you. She thinks you're someone else. You have to get out of her line of sight." He directed instructions to Daniel. "Take him in the kitchen. Make sure he's all right. I'll take care of Mandy." Dan nodded and reached for Matt's arm but pulled back when he saw the man flinch. Instead, he gestured for Matt to follow him.

"Come on. It's okay. It's gonna be alright. This has happened before. Come with me if you want him to be able to calm her down. Which one of you is bleeding?" Matt, shaking now, followed him into the kitchen, his eyes staying on Amanda until the wall blocked his view. "Hey." Matt jumped at Daniel's voice. Dan smiled, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry. I don't know your name. Who's bleeding?"

Matt's attention snapped to the boy in front of him. "I…I don't know. I think I better sit down."

Daniel nodded. "Good idea. Let's see you hands." Matt held them out, mute, and Daniel whistled, astounded. "Man, oh man she got you good. Just sit there and don't move." He reached under the sink, as familiar with Mandy's kitchen as he was with his own, and pulled out a basin. Filling it with warm water and helping himself to a washcloth, he gestured to Matt. "This is gonna hurt like hell but you have to rinse the blood off." Matt nodded and slid his shaking hands into the water hissing a little as the warm water hit open cuts. Daniel eyed the man in front of him. Something about him was ringing some bells. "I'm Daniel. Don't be scared about Amanda. Clark's gonna bring her out of that just fine. Do you know what started it?"

Matt shook his head. "No, she seemed like she was in a nightmare and I tried to wake her up and she came at me."

"You scared her and she got stuck in it."

Matt shook his head baffled. "Did I do that? Did I do that to her?"

Daniel shrugged. "I don't have any idea what triggered it. You'll have to talk to Clark. Let's see you hands." He eyed the cuts along the back of the other boy's hands relieved to see they were shallow. Seeing blood dripping from underneath, he winced. "Turn your hand over," he said and groaned at what he saw. Matt's palm was laid open cut deeply enough that he could see far too much of the inside of his hand. "That one's gonna want stitches. Here…" He folded up a dishtowel and handed it to Matt. "Press on it hard and don't let up." He eyed the trembling man sitting across from him wondering what on earth had been going on here and how they were going to fix it.

Clark had his hands full with Amanda. He held on, voice soft. "Mandy. Mandy, it's okay. It's just me. It's Clark. You're okay." His words went on and on, meaningless soothings, and he felt the tension begin to go out of her body. When she began to relax into his arms, he gently led her over to the couch. "Mandy." His voice was now firmer. "Mandy!"

She looked up at him, eyes glazed, and he sighed. She was really stuck in this one. Not really sleeping but also not quite awake. She was trapped in dream images. The real world couldn't penetrate and she was lost in her past. She hadn't had one of these spells in over a year. She'd sounded fine on the phone last night. What could have set it off? His eyes narrowed. Matt. Something must have happened with him. Hoping there was something salvageable about this whole thing, he gently continued his efforts to bring Amanda back into reality.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Daniel watched with much concern as Matt, hand shaking, struggled to drink the tea that Daniel had made him. Matt's nod was shaky, his gaze suspicious. In all honesty, he felt like throwing up and the last thing he wanted was to drink anything. Or to talk to whomever this was. His eyes flicked continuously to the living room and Amanda. He didn't understand any of this.

"What happened to her? I didn't do that did I?"

Daniel shook his head. "I already told you. I don't know. What exactly happened?"

Matt shook his head. "You saw."

"I didn't see what happened."

Matt sighed, shoved the mug away, and craned his neck around to see into the living room. "Look, why are you making me stay in here? Is she okay?"

He saw Daniel's glance move to a spot above his head, expression suddenly very concerned, and turned to see Amanda standing behind him. She sank down into the chair next to him and sighed.

"Matt, I'm so sorry. If I'd had any idea that was going to happen, I'd have made sure you were somewhere else."

He shook his head. He didn't want to hear that. "Mandy, you're okay? What was that?"

She sighed again bitterly then smiled slightly as Clark pressed a mug into her hand. "Thanks, C, your cure all for everything. Apple tea." Sipping from her mug, she turned to Matt. "We owe you an explanation. An honest one. But let me catch my breath first, okay?" He nodded, confused. She seemed perfectly normal to him now.

"We owe him a couple of stitches, too." Daniel's voice brought their heads up. "Look at his hand."

"Show me, Matt. Oh, by the way, I'm Clark. You can call me C if you want."

Matt nodded his acknowledgement of the introduction and held his hand out. Amanda winced seeing the cuts on his hand and the scratches and gouges on his face and throat. Past the point of hating herself for something she couldn't help, she still felt badly that this boy, fragile in his own right, had caught the brunt of it. Clark was shaking his head.

"No, I have butterflies in the car. This isn't bleeding any more. It's deep but it's narrow. No, I don't think it needs stitches. Danny, would you run out and get the first aid kit?"

Dan jumped up, trotted through the living room, then halted as he opened the front door. "Hey, guys? There's a van pulling up out here. Looks like we've got company."

Matt's head snapped up. "Van? What color is it?"

"White. I'll be back in a minute."

Adam had rounded the bend and felt his heart leap at the sight of his car canted sideways across someone's lawn. He pulled the van up behind it and started to get out when Amy stopped him.

"Adam, we don't even know if he's here. Why don't you think before you go running in?"

"I'm not going to run in but if he's not there, they must have noticed the car in their front yard. I'm going to see if anyone's home." Just as he spoke, the front door opened and they saw a boy looking out. He turned to speak to someone inside the house then continued on his way out the door. Adam, out of the car, quickly moved to intercept him.


	18. Roads chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda, Clark, and Daniel are mine.

A/N: I'm so sorry about the incredibly long wait for this chapter! I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read this chapter for being so patient about it. Also thanks to those of you who sent emails it encouraged me to get back on this story! I've just been incredibly busy with things. Wonderful vacations, a great new boyfriend, and an awesome new car (that I've been dreaming of owning for 9 years!), also working my ass off and now school starting back! Whew! But once again thanks to all of you!! Now on with the story!

Dan, not at all comfortable about it, led Adam into the house. He wished the guy would back off so he could go get Clark but Adam was just sticking to him like glue. He spotted a woman in the van. Sighing and hoping things weren't all about to explode again, he stopped in the living room.

"Wait here for a minute, okay?" He moved into the kitchen and Adam, pointedly ignoring his request, followed. He came around the corner, eyes taking in Matt, face scratched and bleeding, eyes red, one hand held out to a man with a first aid kit, a hand so swollen and gashed it was barely recognizable as a hand. Eyes wide, he also took in a woman in much the same condition. Deduction coming into play, his fear, frustration, and anger exploded out of him.

"God! What'd you people do to him?!?!" He reached across the table grabbing Matt's hand away from Clark. "Who did this? What the fuck is going on in here?!"

Amanda, startled at the intrusion, backed as far away as she could, a small whimper escaping her, and Matt jumped up immediately.

"Adam get out! Just get out! You don't have any idea what's going on!" The swear from Adam had scared him. He'd seen Adam lose his temper only once and it had been preceded by a word like that. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt. Adam, undaunted, advanced.

"Tell me then! Where the fuck did you think you were going?! Do you have any idea what you've done to us?!" His face was livid, eyes flashing.

"Adam!" Matt could see Amanda's eyes going vague and knew he had to get Adam out of there. He stepped between them putting himself squarely in his space. "You get out! You're not helping!" He shoved Adam out of the kitchen and back into the living room. "You can't do this. You can't go off on these people. You don't understand. Just go home. I'm okay, just go!"

"Yeah, sure, right, and you're coming with me…" His hand on Matt's arm was roughly torn away.

"No! I'm not going with you. Just go, Adam, just go!"

Adam grabbed his face hard. "You can't do this, Matt, you can't do this to us!"

"You let me go! You shouldn't even be here!" Matt pulled away from him and stormed back into the kitchen. "Are you okay, Mandy?"

She nodded, "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Adam! Will you get out!" He was furious seeing him standing there again.

"No, not without you. She did this to you, didn't she? And you're standing there worrying about here? Matt, what's wrong with you?"

Another knock on the door took their attention. Matt wasn't surprised to hear Amy's voice. Sighing, he looked imploringly at Clark who nodded and got up. "Danny, can you bandage up his hand? Put 4 or 6 of those strips on the bad cut." He bypassed Adam, knowing he'd get nowhere with the boy, and went to Amy. "Miss, my name's Clark. Yes, Matt is here and he's fine. Would you like to sit down? We need to talk."

Dan finished bandaging Matt's hand and nodded his satisfaction. "How's it feel?"

Matt smiled a little. "Like a really big cut with a Band-Aid on it. It hurts like hell."

Daniel snorted approving the snip of humor. "Sorry, best I could do. Mandy, do you have any Tylenol I could give him?"

She nodded gesturing at the kitchen cupboard. "Matt, you don't know how sorry I am. I had no idea that was going to happen."

He shook his head. "It's okay. I got my licks in when I first got here. Looks to me like we're pretty even."

She shook her head visibly upset. "Matt, I would have cheerfully gutted you. You have no idea."

He paled slightly at that. "Mandy, what exactly happened?"

She sighed. "I was sort of dreaming. I thought you were somebody else. You don't know how sorry I am. Here I was trying to help you and look what I did."

He reached for her hand. "It's not your fault. It's okay." He nodded thanks to Dan who'd handed him five Tylenol and a glass of water. "That's a lot of pills, isn't it?"

"It's a lot of cuts. And it'll knock back that headache."

Matt's eyebrows went up at that. "How'd you know I have headache?"

"It shows." Daniel sighed, his attention now going to Amanda. "You sure you're okay? That hasn't happened to you in a long time."

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. When all is said and done, it was just a nightmare."

"Pretty scary, Mandy, that you could have killed someone."

"I know it is. Matt, I should go talk to them."

"What about?" He listened to the murmur of voices in the next room. "He sounds like he's got it under control."

She shook her head. "No, about you. About this…" she tapped the bandaged hand. "I should at least explain, apologize."

Matt's eyes went huge and his expression horrified. "No!! Amanda, are you nuts? The last thing in the world you want to tell her is how you nearly killed me!"

"Matt, she's going to want to know what happened. Better it should come from me than someone else."

"Amanda." He got up and got close to her. "She doesn't need to hear it at all. Trust me on this one. You do not want to tell that lady out there about any of this. And if you're smart, you won't tell Adam either."

"Matt, don't lie to them. Never do that. They love you. They'll want to know how you got hurt. You'll have to tell them."

"Fine, then I will tell them. You will not."

She eyed him crossing her arms. "Oh really? Listen here. I already kicked your ass once. I can do it again. Don't think you can tell me what to do."

Daniel was grinning. This was the Mandy he knew. "He's right, though, Mandy, don't get into it with them. You're all unraveled."

Matt nodded. "And there are two of us and only one of you. We will sit on you. Don't even doubt it."

Conceding defeat, she grinned and sat back. Dan got up. "Mind if I put on some coffee, Mandy? I think this may just be a really long day."

Matt lay hands laced behind his head in his own bed in his own room staring up at his ceiling. His leaving from Amanda's had gone well all things considered. Amy and Adam had given him little choice but to go with them and immediately but there had been no obvious hostility. Amy had thanked Amanda profusely for taking him in. 'Thank God,' he thought, 'she doesn't know Amanda almost killed me.' He'd gone out with Adam waiting for what seemed an eternity in the van while Amy talked with Amanda and Clark. She'd come out, a determined look he didn't at all like on her face. She'd remained completely silent the whole ride home speaking only curtly when they pulled into the driveway. He'd been up in his room less than an hour when blue lights flashing in the window caught his attention. Jumping up and looking out, he saw the media circus being treated to a live presentation of 'cops.' At least six cruisers lined the street, lights flashing, and officers at the ready. As he watched, they systematically ran off every last individual. Cracking the window, the words 'private property', 'trespassing', and 'harassment' drifted in on the wind. In very little time, the crowd had dispersed and for the first time in weeks, the area at the end of the drive was clear. He was turning away from the window when a huge van turned in. Double taking, he recognized Clark behind the wheel, confusion now replacing the glee he'd felt seeing the press run off. As he watched, the van was parked and the man who'd rescued both him and Amanda approached the back door.

"Don't you guys think if you're gonna talk about Matt he should be down here?" Jeff's face displayed his unease. "This just isn't fair. We're down here having a meeting with this guy about Matt but this guy is here and Matt isn't."

The man called Clark smiled. "Jeff, you're absolutely right. Why don't you go get him? If that's all right…"

At the nod from Chris, Jeff got up warily keeping his eyes on the stranger and backed out of the room. Clark was pleased. He'd deliberately started a conversation about Matt wondering if anyone in the house would remark on his absence or would move to defend or include him. He waited now until Matt trailed Jeff into the room and sat down. He'd nodded briefly at Clark before settling with the same haunted expression the rest of them wore. Clark studied their actions and reactions sensing their caution, their suspicion, and the air they gave off of people waiting for an attack. This was a family falling apart. People so traumatized by events that they had no idea who to trust, who to depend on, where to turn. They'd been given wrong information, wrong advice, and no recourses. No referrals had been made to get help for either them or for Matt. They'd simply been left to simmer in their own broth and the result was boil over. They hadn't even been able to rid themselves of the crowds of people congregating around their house on their own. They'd been rendered helpless and ineffective unable to make the decisions to act on any aspect of their situation. He'd seen it before. Now the question was, could he help them?


	19. Roads chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda, Clark, Daniel, Jose, and Robin are mine.

From his spot on the floor, Adam watched Matt sleep. His mind whirling knowing he wouldn't be able to fall asleep, he curled up on a beanbag and took out his journal. Instead of writing in it however, he'd fallen into staring at Matt and Jeff. Long into the night, the man who called himself Clark had talked to them. He'd told them so much. So much that finally made sense. A huge weight seemed to have been lifted from Adam's shoulders and he found himself relieved of the terrible ambivalence that had hit him every time he looked at Matt. It had been awful looking at someone he loved and feeling so much hatred and so much resentment mixed in with it. Looking at the people at the end of the drive and feeling it was all Matt's fault. Looking at his shattered career and thinking it was all Matt's fault. Looking at Matt and feeling so sorry for him. Loving him so much but at the same time hating him for what he was doing to the 'family.' Clark's words tonight rang in his mind.

"You have to stop seeing him as an object. A burden. He's a human being and we humans…we tend to react to things. He got himself into a nasty situation but it wasn't intentional. People, human beings, screw up. He's just as entitled as any of us. He didn't get himself that prescription for an addictive drug. People he trusted got it for him. Think about the message. Here's a pill to make everything all right. And it's okay to take it. In fact, we want you to take it. Now here are his friends offering him more pills. On an intellectual level, he knew he shouldn't take them but on an emotional level it was easy to trick himself into justifying it. If these pills are okay, so are these. So it was stupid. Everyone does stupid things. Matt, you don't deny that it was absolutely moronic, do you?"

Matt had laughed at that, amazingly. "No, no I don't. Are you trying to make a point, C?"

Clark, too, had laughed. "I think I am. I'm going to talk about you like you're not here." He leaned forward then, his eyes boring into each of them in turn. "You people are in crisis. You have a friend with a huge problem. A really really huge mind boggling life-destroying problem. Yet you bury your heads in the sand and pretend that because you pulled him home and watched him finish withdrawal because he's not any longer IN the situation, it's all okay. You're all sitting around wondering why, if it's all over, is he still acting so damn strange? You're all so angry at him for not just jumping back into things as if nothing had ever happened. You've been told to leave him alone and things will all work out. I'm very sorry but that's like trying to say that two aspirins for the aches and a nice coat of makeup to improve your color will cure the pneumonia that's killing you! You've eradicated a symptom that's all you've done. Things look okay on the surface but inside everything's coming apart. And it's not just Matt. You are all so blown away that you can't even scrape up the motivation to call the cops to get rid of the idiots standing around in your yard! You're looking at every single obstacle in your path as something else to ignore and hope it goes away. How far down that road do you think you can go?"

Adam thought about it now. They'd all known all that. Why had it taken a stranger to point it out and make them look at it? Gazing at Matt, he tried to apply Clark's words to the situation.

"You're going to have to help him out and help each other. You can't just sit around and wait for it to fix itself. He's trying to cope and he's in way over his head. He doesn't have a chance in hell of making it on his own, yet you're all sitting here watching him drown and going down with him. Now take away all of the gloss, all of the veils you've all thrown over everything and really look at the situation. Don't shy away from it. It's yours and you all own it. Not just Matt. Yes, he got himself into it, but he didn't mean to. And he needs your help to get himself out of it. He's not a bad person and he's not hopeless. I've met a hell of a lot of people that I knew I was wasting my time on. This guy…he's not one of them. But it's too much for him to handle on his own. How much more effective is it if you all pick up part of this load rather than watch one person fold up under it while you all stand around feeling helpless?"

His words stung badly but he'd mediated them almost immediately. "You are very strong people. This man, all by himself, is managing to survive and that's a testament to his strength. You're all still together. Proof of yours. It would have been very easy to just send him somewhere. I'm assuming the option was presented to you? You chose to keep him with you. A lot of families wouldn't have. Not after the violence. I have to assume that you want him to get through this. So you're going to have to help him. You're going to have to make him do what needs to be done, whether he likes it or not. You're going to have to stop worrying about upsetting him and stop worrying about rocking his boat and just do what you have to do. If he won't get up, drag him out of bed. If he wont eat, make him sit there until he does. If you know he's not fine and he says he is, ignore his words and go with what you know. Don't let him tell you to leave him alone. Don't let him withdraw. And don't let things escalate to the point where you're beating the hell out of each other in your frustration again."

Adam had been annoyed and angered that this man was yelling at them this way but he'd held his tongue as Clark had gone on to offer advice and solutions and all kinds of strategies to get them through it. By the time he'd finally left promising to come back the next day, Adam had the absurd impression that they'd acquired a guardian angel. Now, watching Matt sleep, he felt ironically like thanking him for finding these people to help them.

* * *

"Hey, get up. What're you doing?"

Matt felt the kick on his foot and rolled over coming face to face with Daniel. "Huh? What're you doing here?" He stretched and dug his fingers into the carpet, still half asleep.

"Matt! We told you we were picking you up at one. It's now one fifteen. What're you doing crashed on the floor? You don't even have clean clothes on for goodness sake. Get up!"

Matt scowled at him. "I don't wanna go anywhere, Dan, and could you stop kicking me?!"

Dan stopped the light tapping on Matt's foot and sighing in exasperation turned and headed out the door. Matt's eyes closed and he'd started to drift off again when another voice disturbed his slumber.

"NO WAY! Up you get. You said you were going and going you are. Now get your butt into a shower and into some clothes. I don't have time to run around playing games. I came out here to get you. I took time away from people who probably needed it more than you do so get moving."

Matt barely opened his eyes when a hand grabbed the front of his shirt and literally hauled him to his feet. "On your way."

"C…"

"No, don't even bother arguing. Get going" Matt glanced at the doorway where Amy was standing and gestured at Clark. "You hear him?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do. I told you an hour ago to go get dressed. Is it my fault you ignored me?" He stared at her amazed that she was taking someone else's side and she laughed a little. "Matt, you told him you'd go and to come get you. He's right. If you changed your mind, you should have called him. Now go get dressed."

Feeling very picked on and wanting very much to smack Clark, Matt stomped his way up the stairs. Moving to the end of the steps, Clark called up. "Hey, Matt?"

"What?"

"Change those clothes too. They're the same ones you had on two days ago. And don't tell me you just washed them either."

"Shut up!"

Amy bristled at the rudeness but Clark only chuckled. Shaking his head he turned to Amy. "Why'd you let him get away with that hanging around sleeping all day, not washing or changing stuff? You let him do that, you're not helping him any."

She looked away from his gaze dropping her eyes and he gently tipped her face up to his. "Amy, I know it's hard. You don't want to ride him because you want things as easy as possible for him. But it doesn't work. It didn't work once and it won't work again. Don't be afraid of him and don't be afraid you'll hurt him. He needs these limits. He needs these boundaries. And he wants them. He's feeling as if he's in free fall. He wants that security. No matter how much he may complain." He let her go then turned to call up the stairs. "Hurry up! My time is not cheap!!" The muttered response was unintelligible and Amy was glad. She had a feeling it was something that she'd have had to hit him for. She looked at Clark. "He's a grown man, Clark, I can't very well pick him up and put him in the shower if he doesn't want to go."

"Sure you can. And, Amy, don't be afraid that if you make him mad, he'll run out and use. He won't."

"He has."

"Not because you made him mad. Because he was scared. You keep him in line, he'll feel better and so will you. Trust me." He broke off then seeing Matt stomping down the stairs. Matt brushed past both of them and still stomping and muttering headed out the door. Clark smiled and followed him out the door. "Matt, you know if you lose the attitude you may just like what you see."

"Yeah maybe. I'm just tired, C, y'know?"

"Well…" Clark's imperturbable logic went into play. "If you're tired, sleep at night. Now get in the van."

* * *

"Well?" Clark pulled the van into a huge drive that rambled its way around a sprawling complex of buildings snuggled up against heavy woods. A huge yard off to one side sprinkled with enticing large and mysterious objects dominated the view. "This is the place."

"What place?"

Matt was less than enthused. They'd stuck him in the back of the van and while gorgeously appointed with plush seats, thick carpeting, and real wood windowsills, a van was still a vehicle and the back seat however comfortable was still a back seat and his stomach was churning. He wanted out and pretty damned soon.

Clark noticed Matt's pallor and the breathy quality to his voice. He knew the long ride had gotten to him. Still, if Matt wanted to switch places with Dan and ride up front, he could simply say so. He hadn't mentioned not feeling well. Clark smiled to himself. The rules of Matt's game dictated that someone notice, ask, and make an offer. Clark didn't play that game. Matt would learn. Manipulation got little result around here.

"This, Matt, is Livingston Center. This is where I work and where Dan lives. We'd like to show you around."

Matt glanced at Dan, his interest picking up. "You live here? Is it a school?"

Dan nodded, "Among other things. It's so many things all in one." The excitement in his voice was evident. He turned sideways to face Matt. "This place is so awesome. You can't even imagine. We wanted you to see it so you'd know some of what's possible. Mandy lived here for a while too." He grinned. "She didn't want to leave. C had to kick her out."

Matt's smile was faint. He was afraid he knew where this was going. Clark pulled the van around the back of the building, parked, and sat for a moment gazing out over the huge yard with it's complex constructions of iron, wood, and rope. Knots and groups of people stood on, milled about, and climbed on various contraptions. For all their appearance of idleness, he knew those groups were actively engaged and highly organized entities. He smiled approvingly letting his eyes rove the property. Site of so many miracles. He always had a hard time looking away from it. Sighing at his own sentimentality, he got out of the van gesturing the others to follow him. They'd taken about six steps beyond the gate when Matt finally spoke up.

"Guys, hang on. Could I sit down someplace for a minute?"

Daniel glanced at him sharply for the first time noticing how pale he was. "Yeah, sure. What's wrong?"

Matt pointed to the van. "Riding. Just a couple of minutes?"

Dan nodded and led him over to a sunny spot along side the fence plopping down onto the grass and stretched out in the warmth of the sun. "Fine with me, Matt, I'll take any excuse."

Clark snorted. "The boy's part gecko. Ever need to find him, look for the first sunny rock. Matt, if the ride was making you sick, you should have said something."

Matt nodded, not really feeling as if talking were a good idea and put his head down on his arms waiting for the nausea to pass. The sun was warm on his back offsetting the colder wind that had sprung up days ago. It was pleasant and as he started to feel better. A peaceful dozy state crept up on him.

"What a study in contrasts" Clark thought watching the two men. Danny as fair as Matt was dark, Matt gangly and thin, tall, all sharp points and angles, Danny slight, deceptively soft, seemingly with no edges to him at all. The sunlight vanished into Matt making little headway against dark brown hair and permanently sun darkened skin. That same sunlight illuminated Dan, glinting off blonde hair and fair skin, a splash of bright next to Matt's shadow. Their personalities are as diverse as their looks. Matt, mobile and volatile apt to detonate on a moment's notice, shifted moods with the blink of an eye. Dan, relentlessly calm and solidly reliable, had mood changes fleeting with reason. If these two become friends, what incredible things we'll have happening. Grinning at the thought, he reached out and shook Dan who appeared to be dozing.

"Come on, lizard boy. Lets get moving."

Dan cracked an eye, "Lizard boy?" He climbed to his feet and reached a hand down to Matt who still looked a bit like something the cat dragged in. "Come on. Take a look around. You'll fell better in a few minutes." They'd begun to walk out into the yard when a shadow detached itself from the edge of the woods and ran toward them. The shadow as it got nearer resolved itself into the shape of a young girl.

"Danny!" Her voice carried across the lawn faintly frantic and Matt saw Clark roll his eyes.

"What now, Dan, you can't leave for five minutes?" Dan's eyes also heavenward matched Clark's.

"Danny!"

"Yeah stop shouting. I'm right here." He made a face at Matt who knew enough to stifle his grin as the girl pounded up to them out of breath.

"Danny, hurry up. Jose's up the tree. He says he won't come down until you're there. He's been up there all morning."

Clark laughed. "What if he hadn't come back until night fall? Would Jose still be up there?"

She nodded. "I seriously think so." Noticing Matt, she stuck her hand out. "I'm Robin."

Face weary, he shook her hand. "Matt."

"You joining us?" Her expression was so open and her voice so welcoming that for a moment he wished he could have answered yes.

Sighing, he shook his head. "No, I don't even know why I'm here. So I don't think so."

Laughing, she nodded understanding. "Been there. Done that. Now, if you'll excuse me, we have a kid stuck up a tree. Danny, come on. Can you get him to come down please?"

Dan glanced at Clark who nodded. Shrugging apologetically at Matt. "What can I say? Duty calls." Dan ran off into the woods with Robin leaving Matt thoroughly confused and powerfully interested. He turned to Clark, eyebrows somewhere up above his head.

"Up a tree?"

Clark nodded. "It happens. They want to try out the course. Get up there, discover that they aren't ready, and panic."

"Aren't ready for what?"

"Oh. To jump."

Matt's eyes were huge. "Jump?"

"Jump."

"Out of a tree?"

"Yes, out of a tree."

"Oh." He thought about it for a minute. "Is it very high up?"

Clark shook his head. "Nah, only about 60 feet."

"60 feet?!?!"

"Yep."

Looking baffled, Matt shook his head. "There's a reason you want this person to jump from 60 feet up out of a tree?"

Clark nodded, eyes sparkling. "There's a reason for everything we do here."

Matt appeared to chew on that for a moment before grinning. "Okay! You win! You got me! I want to see this place!"

Smiling at the enthusiasm in his voice, Clark pointed toward the woods. "Well, we might as well start with getting Jose out of the tree."

Matt shook his head. "Out of the tree. Of course. Get the kid out of the tree."

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They motivate me to keep going!


	20. Roads chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda, Michael, Clark are mine.

Amanda stared at the canvas in front of her. The idea had come to her this morning in the kitchen at the coffeepot, no less. Pouring water into the back of the machine, she'd flashed back to filling a basin with warm water to repair a broken man on her couch. Smiling, pausing in her task, she reflected on how very much on her mind he'd been since his departure. This man had touched her in ways she hadn't thought possible.

She'd finished making her coffee and sat down at her table, mug in hand and thoughts drifting with the steam. So many ghosts he'd stirred up, so many demons she'd thought exorcised. It had been years since she'd thought about it all and she hadn't let her mind anywhere near Michael since his death. It wasn't a bad thing, she now thought, to be made to look at those things. The nightmare and her attack on poor Matt had shown her that there were still battles being fought and issues she needed to deal with. Pushing them down obviously, given the evidence of a man's fright and a stitched up hand, hadn't worked at all.

She'd called Clark to talk to Matt thinking maybe she should get together with him for herself. God knew it had been ages since they'd really spent any time together. Clark was good for her. He always had been, even if being around him was like being hit by a freight train. Maybe, she'd thought with a laugh, he could even tell her how to get Matt the hell off her mind. He'd been in there so much, her mind flashing on everything that had happened from the time he'd careened onto her front lawn to the time he'd walked subdued yet somehow serene out her front door.

Sighing and getting up to refill her mug, she'd reflected on what appeared to be a growing obsession. She just couldn't get the man out of her head. She'd laughed at her next thought that if she didn't find some way to express all the emotions he'd generated, she was likely to become a ravening Hardy Boyz fan.

Heading back to her chair feeling a bit guilty that she was doing nothing but woolgather, her eyes lit on her paint box. Brows knit, an idea forming in the back of her mind, she stared at it.

"Uh oh," she thought, "Inspiration is about to hit." She knew the feeling. Her stubborn muse would never let her see an idea all at once. It would come to her as she painted. The urge to paint was now replacing everything else. She plunked the mug ungraciously down on the table and headed down the hall. God forbid she should have to go buy a canvas, she was sure she had one left and by god she'd better. Laughing at herself the mental comment 'you're so obsessive' flashing through her mind, she triumphantly hauled out a last blank screen. Now, as she sat staring at it, the seed of the idea that had taken root began to grow.

"Okay," this time she spoke out loud. Talking to herself was habit she had no intention of breaking. "Here we go."

An observer would have perhaps been frightened at the intensity the girl, cross-legged on the floor, was displaying. Eyes boring into her work now flashing humor, now filling with tears as memory and emotion flowed from her soul onto the canvas. Her face reflecting a million conflictions. Blonde wisps escaped the headband intended to keep them out of her eyes gong unnoticed in her concentration.

She'd long since thrown down her brushes working this one with her hands and her cheeks, nose, and forehead were smeared with paint. Music pulsed around her, its energy somehow her own. Her thoughts flying onto the canvas with the flow of the music. Her hands took on a life of their own as her heart directed. A million thoughts all fighting for expression. She saw them in front of her. A car careening wildly down the road and a frightened violent man struggling for escape. A burden best left to someone else, a problem, a source of anger. Her fist connecting with a face already bruised from another's hands. A dark room, moonlight the only illumination and a man's face as he listened to another's story. Flashes of black hair in headlights, catlike eyes filled with grief and anger. Winces of pain and memories of suppleness, a man climbing over the back of the couch grinning. A glimpse of the man who cared enough to take a chance on a girl with a knife rather than run out the door. The man who pushed his friends out so a stranger wouldn't be frightened. She saw him broken and bleeding and crying, tearing at the windows trying to get out. Then laughing, holding his hand out, threatening to sit on her if she moved. All these moments she saw and brought them out on the canvas. Time ceased to exist and the girl let her soul speak.

* * *

Hours later, Amanda sat back leaning on her palms eyeing her work. The incredible rush of emotion had faded. Everything transferred onto the canvas in front of her. Her eyes roamed the unfinished painting. She could slow down now. She could make it what she wanted. No rushing now. She leaned back into her work, eyes calm now, quiet. She smiled as her finger shaded his cheekbone. It was as if she were not touching the canvas but comforting him again. There were no bruises on this face. Her apology for having hit him. His face without bruise or mark.

Her eyes roamed the canvas again. She could see him in there. Everything he'd shown her from the first time she saw him on the lawn to the last images of him with Adam in the car. He looked so sad yet at peace somehow. Had that haunted serenity been imagined? She didn't think so. She'd shown him as much as he'd shown her.

Her fingers worked slowly and effortlessly shading and defining and she saw the look she was trying to capture. Had it really been there? The look of someone who's suddenly stepped away from the brink, who's seen the drop in front of them just in time. She thought it had. She loved the look. She'd never seen it in Michael but she'd seen it in Matt. The look of calm in his eyes that had been filled with desperation. No longer scared or broken. A world that had been crashing down suddenly diverted. She'd seen it only briefly but she loved it.

She paused at his hand and gave it a slight scrape of her thumb to lighten it. She wondered how his hand was, if it was still hurt. She wondered if she'd ever see him again, this man who'd somehow fastened himself to her heart. Would he make it? Sitting back gazing at the painting, close to complete in front of her, her spirit suddenly felt light. Her voice now the only sound in the room, rang with faith.

"He'll make it."

* * *

Well, he was gone and Amy felt guilty pleasure. God knew she loved him and while he'd been missing the grief in her had been overwhelming, but now knowing he was safe the respite was welcome. He brought a tension into the house. Sighing and sipping her coffee, she listened to the silence. Everyone, for once, seemed to know to leave her to her reflections.

Clark had had so much to say to them, so many suggestions. He'd been haven sent. He had to have been. Just his ability to get Matt to respond was amazing. If she'd been the only one this morning telling him to get up and go, she'd have argued herself blue and chances are he'd still be lying on the floor in three-day-old clothes. For whatever reason, he responded to Clark. 'Maybe,' she thought smiling, 'it's self-defense. Clark certainly is overpowering. He probably feels he has to do what he says or just be mowed over.' Thinking back to the night Clark had spent with them, her brow furrowed. There was still something bothering her. Her mind drifted back.

Clark and Matt alone finally in the kitchen, their voices filtering muffled and faint into the living room. Hearing Matt's tone pick up in intensity and feeling not the least bit guilty, Amy had quietly moved to the doorway listening. What had followed was an exercise of frustration.

"Yeah but, Clark, she's not okay! That's not okay, that stuff happening."

"Matt, she is. It's not something new for her. She's fine. She still feels bad about it though. She wants to talk to Amy."

"I know but she doesn't have to."

"Responsibility, Matt."

"Right. She had no idea she was doing it. No harm done. There's no reason…"

Just as she felt on the verge of understanding what they were talking about, Adam spoke from behind her.

"What are you doing?"

Amy had jumped, yelped, then frantically listened to make sure she hadn't been heard. She smiled as she remembered scrambling to come up with an excuse as to why she was standing in the hallway outside the kitchen, ear pressed to the door. Adam didn't even wait for an excuse. He knew he caught her and that was it. Waving away her excuses with a grin, he'd shoved her back into the living room.

'Damn him,' she thought. It had amused him terribly and she'd gone back to sit on the couch feeling more than a little sheepish and extremely frustrated.

Now that frustration returned. Something had happened between Matt and that girl. She didn't know what but something and it bothered her. She'd seen that the girl had been crying that day in the house. Clark had refused to let her into the kitchen where Matt, Amanda, and another boy had been. Matt had bodily thrown Adam from the room but she'd caught a glimpse of blonde hair and tears. Something had been going on. She'd seen blood on the floor and on the kitchen doorjamb and Matt's voice had a hysterical note she hadn't much cared for. Still, just hearing his voice had been the biggest relief of her life. Yes, he'd been yelling but he was alive. A very short time later he'd been in the van with her on his way home and she'd been given several suggestions and promises. Things were okay or as okay as could be expected, but still that nagging suspicion that something important had happened. Something that was being hidden from her still lingered.

Sighing, feeling a bit disgruntled and thinking it was much too quiet, suddenly she got up to check on the rest. This much silence was never to be trusted. She knew Adam was napping. He'd complained of a headache earlier and was sleeping off the painkiller he'd taken. The rest though could only be up no good. As she started up the stairs, she was rewarded with a loud crash. Nodding. "I knew it was too good to last." She headed for the source.

Adam too had heard the crash. In fact, he was the crash. He had tried getting out of bed while still a little groggy not noticing his foot tangled in the bed sheet. The tumble from his bed to the floor had been a long one and for a second he thought he'd gone right through the floor. He was laughing hysterically hopping on one foot trying to disentangle himself when Amy finally made it up the stairs.

She turned into Adam's room making a fortuitous grab just as he finally lost his battle with the sheet saving him from another nasty collision with the floor.

"Adam, for heaven's sake." She was smiling. "How do you manage these things? You didn't hurt yourself did you?"

He was nearly laughing too hard to answer her. Holding her shoulder while he untied his feet he managed to gasp out, "No, no, I'm fine. Humiliated but fine." He grinned at her now finally managing to stand upright. "I think the bed won though."

Amy was happy to hear him laughing. A few days ago he would have been cursing and yelling about this. There was hope in her today that things would finally work out. There was laughter in the house again and it was good.


	21. Roads chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Daniel, Ruby, and Clark are mine.

Daniel looked at Matt and burst into laughter. "Matt, your face is so screwed up. You look like a demented owl! What's wrong?"

Matt scowled, deepening the V his brows had made between his eyes, the inspiration for Danny's comment. He flung himself onto the ground decidedly sulky. "Quit it. I don't get any of this."

Dan plopped down onto the grass next to him assuming his usual languid sprawl. Eyeing Matt, he swallowed his laughter. Matt did look just like an owl but he could see that his humor wouldn't find a receptive audience. "Matt, tell me what you don't understand."

Sighing, Matt shook his head. None of this meant anything. He'd wandered the grounds for hours seeing people in trees and people in valleys, people building huge constructions, people painting murals on walls. Inside and outside he'd seen dozens of busy, focused, and very involved groups all completely devoted to whatever they were doing. He'd seen groups sitting and talking and solitary beings writing quietly in journals. He couldn't deny that everyone looked occupied but the point eluded him. Now sitting on the grass, tired, hungry, and frustrated, his numbed mind refused to make any meaning out of the group before him. There were perhaps six individuals of varying shapes and sizes all talking at once. In front of them was a wooden wall, a shallow pit, and various pieces of rope, wood, and iron. Evidently, the goal was to get over the wall without touching the ground or falling in the pit using the various scraps available to them. He watched them struggle for a while marveling at the uselessness of it all.

"I just don't get it, Danny. Why don't they just walk around that hole and jump over?"

"Because the rules say they can't."

"But why? I mean look. That girl." He pointed to a girl who'd fallen off the rope at least half a dozen times. An attempt to ride with someone else had also failed, landing her in the shallow pit of leaves. Laughing, she'd get up each time, brush herself off, and huddle with the others presumably to plan another attempt. "She's trying to swing over that. She's died like six times. If they fall in that hole, they're dead, right? Obviously she can't do it, so why…" he shook his head. "Why waste all this time?"

"Matt."

He stopped, arrested by the exasperated tone in Daniel's voice. Flinching a little, he glanced sideways at the other man. He knew he was missing something.

"The goal is to find a way by cooperation to get everyone across. Even the ones who can't do it on their own. They'll work together until they figure it out." He eyed Matt intently. The dubious look on his face said it all. Ah well, it took time. "You're missing the whole point, aren't you?"

Matt looked away. He was tired and beginning to be bored as well as frustrated. He knew that he was supposed to be noticing something here but all he was seeing was a lot of people working very hard for no discernable reason.

"Well, what's that got to do with me? I mean, why am I here?"

Dan stretched out on his back, arm thrown over his eyes to block the sun. "We just thought you might like to see it. I live here and I think it's a pretty cool place. But if you don't get it, you don't get it. It's no big deal." He stayed quiet for a moment, then reluctant to give up his spot in the sun, climbed to his feet and beckoned to Matt. "Come on. You've seen what there is to see. Let's go find Clark."

As they walked away, a sudden silence sprang up behind them as most of the participants at the obstacle field suddenly went quiet. Matt turned and saw several sets of eyes and various expressions all trained on him. Eyes narrowing, a breath of anger stirring in him, he took a step back toward them. Dan's hand on his arm stopped him.

"It's okay. They're just curious about you. Lets go." His voice was warm and his face held a hint of amusement. "Subtle they are not. Now lets go find Clark. With Clark comes dinner and I'm starving."

Matt followed him shooting the occasional suspicious glance back over his shoulder. The majority of the group had turned their attention back to their task but one girl separated herself from them jogging to catch up to the two guys.

"Danny! Dan, wait up!" He stopped and turned grinning.

"Hey, Ruby. You're not supposed to run out on them. Had enough?"

Ruby, the girl who'd had so much trouble finding her way over the barricade, laughed a laugh that rang throughout the compound and lit up her entire face.

"Baby, they need a break from me. I was wondering about your friend here." Her face open and friendly turned to Matt seemingly undismayed by his look of open suspicion and hostility. Daniel nodded and gave Matt a little shove moving him slightly closer to the girl and her wonderful grin. She smiled wider if possible and stuck out a hand. "Hi, my name's Ruby. You're Matt, aren't you?"

His gaze uneasy flicked to Dan and then quickly around as if searching for help. Seeing no way out, he settled his eyes on her again unsure and very uncomfortable.

"I…yeah. Hi." She took the half offered hand and gripped it warmly.

"Matt, I have to tell you. I love watching you wrestle. I'm real sorry about all the trouble you've been having. Are you going to be staying with us?"

He shook his head more nervous now that he'd gotten a good look at her and realized that she was in fact not a young girl as he'd first thought but a grown woman and one who seemed to know all about him. His nerves began to fire as he attempted to answer her.

"I…it…I dont know why I'm here."

"Well…" she turned to Daniel her hand still enfolding Matt's. "Dan, this poor guy looks about to have a breakdown." She toned down her manner a little looking back into Matt's eyes. "Don't let it scare you. It's a good place here. You'll find a welcome."

He shook his head again. "Why would I be staying?"

Now it was her turn to look puzzled. "Well, if you're not staying, why are you watching?"

His face closed up at that. He didn't know and he didn't know how to answer her. His walls went up as he saw the friendly warmth in her eyes replaced by cold suspicion. Now her eyes narrowed and she took a step back dropping his hand.

"This had better not be some 'famous wrestler mixing with the rabble for publicity' bull shit, because man that's fucked up!" The contempt in her voice burned. She may as well have been holding a flame to him. He shook his head frantically.

"No, no, I don't even know!" He turned to Dan who he was alarmed to see wasn't doing anything about the situation. Ruby advanced on him slowly backing him against the fence.

"Well, Mr. Extreme, if that's what your game is you can forget it! None of here are gonna go for that media heartwarming human interest shit! We all have better things to do! So you can take your lily white ass the hell out of here!" Her finger was relentlessly poking his chest as she shouted, shoving him backward.

He came up against the fence now and having no choice but to defend himself, he stepped into her space grabbing the hand that was shoving him.

"I'm not here for any media shit!" He hadn't meant to shout, somehow it had just come out. He was tired, edgy, and his head ached. Before he'd had any chance to think, his temper broke free. "I don't know why I'm here! I don't even want to be here!" He stepped closer now forcing her to take a step away. "You can just step back outta my face! I don't care about this place and I don't care about any of you! I'm sure as fuck not here with the goddamn newspaper! I don't even want to be here! They brought me here and if I'm looking at you, it's cause they said I had to. Not cause I like looking at you're face!" His hand squeezed hers white knuckled and her face reflected pain. Two sets of eyes blazed into each other, neither willing to back down. Small bones in her hand had begun to grind when a slightly dark and very gentle hand pressed down on theirs and a soft voice broke in.

"That's enough."

The very quietness of Danny's voice brought them up short. Two sets of eyes stared into his. Those same eyes flicked to each other and Matt slowly relaxed his grip on Ruby's hand. Rubbing at it, eyes flashing, she backed away. Dan's calm gaze took in both of them.

"Have some temper, guys, really." He gave Matt a gentle nudge a step or two further from Ruby and reached for her hand. "Is your hand okay?"

She nodded and scowled at Matt. "It's sore though. Pretty boy here is stronger than he looks."

Matt snorted and turned away. "Daniel, lets just go, okay? I've really had enough." Ruby, unable to resist another jibe stepped closer.

"What's the matter? The dregs here more than you take?" Daniel chided her gently.

"Ruby, come on. You know how you felt when you first saw this place. You didn't know what was gong on either. Why are you being so mean now?"

"Mean? You think I'm being mean? He didn't deny being here to stare." Daniel understood her reaction. Feeling on display was never easy and he knew that Matt's professional status probably made it even worse, the horrible feeling of being judged and found inferior by someone you looked up to. His soul ached knowing how hurt she must feel, friendly open Ruby to be saying these things. How wrong she was yet unable to tell her for fear of invading Matt's privacy. He wished Matt would just say something. Glancing at him, he was alarmed to see him shivering violently, face pale. Whether with reaction or cold he didn't know. Shaking his head, knowing it was past time to get Matt out of here, he motioned Ruby back toward her group.

"Why don't you go on back. We'll talk later." She nodded still scowling and turned her attention to Matt. Something in the man's face and Daniel's protective attitude toward him was making her uneasy. She suspected she'd misjudged and lashed out at him unfairly. Swallowing her anger along with her opinions, she tried to smooth it over.

"Matt, if I'm wrong about you, I'm sorry." She started back toward her people, paused, and turned back to the guys. "If you are going to join us here, you'll…"

He broke in rejecting her offer of truce, tone petulant. "I already told you I'm not going to. I don't like it here. I don't like any of this."

She smiled slightly and reached out to touch his arm, a gesture she intended to be comforting. His reaction was completely unexpected. His head flashed up, eyes blazing as he flung her hand off of his arm. He backed up so quickly that for a moment Daniel doubted his own senses questioning whether Ruby's gentle touch had in fact been a blow. Startled, Ruby jumped back, eyes filled with confusion, yet ironically a bitter understanding. Nodding a farewell at Daniel, she started back to her people. He watched her move dejectedly back into the group feeling badly for her. When he looked again toward Matt, the man was already halfway back to the main building.


	22. Roads chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE. Amanda, Michael, Clark are mine.

A/N: I'm so sorry to anyone out there who still reads this story. I hadn't realized how long I let this one go. Here's an extra long chapter to make up for it. And thank you to those readers who are sticking through this

* * *

"I don't want to wait! I want to go home!" Matt brushed off Daniel's restraining arm and continued storming down the corridor ignoring the insistent nagging from behind him. Clark's office. Where was it? If he could find Clark, he could go home. It never occurred to him to ask Danny where Clark was. Exhaustion, confusion, the fear that this was all a trick to keep him here, the pounding in his head from not eating, and the knowledge that if he ate he'd be sick, the people looking at him, the feeling of being judged, and too many memories of too many strangers. It all crowded in on him distorting his ability to reason and coherent thought became fragmented. The small dark voice of irrationality, a constant untold whisper, had begun to shout, drowning out anything like sense. He felt trapped. Hunted. He had to get out. Repeatedly shoving Daniel's hands away from him, he stalked wild-eyed through the halls of an alien territory. 

"Matt, you can't just go running around in here! Will you wait please?! Daniel trotted after him, frustration and worry stamped across his fine features. He saw the frantic look in the other man's eyes. He knew that all was far from alright with Matt and he had to help him but first he had to catch him and it looked doubtful. Sighing, he finally caught up to him as Matt hit the dead end that was the stairwell.

"Matt! Will you stop? You're being ridiculous! Clark's office is right down there but you have to stop this!" He reached for Matt's arm, softening his tone. "Matt, you have to calm down. It's okay. I'm gonna take you to Clark and he's gonna take you home. But you have to stop this."

Matt whirled on him, fury flashing from his eyes. "How? How?! Why are you people doing this to me?" He shook free of Dan's grasp, eyes darting around the confined space at the end of the hall. "You can't keep me here. You know you cant!"

Daniel, seeing that reasoning would be impossible, reached for Matt again, one hand gently taking his arm, the other slipping up to the back of his neck. His intent to sooth and lead him the few steps up the hall to the haven Clark's space. He was unprepared for the grip on his wrist, fingers digging into thin bones. He looked up startled and in pain into eyes lacking any shred of rationality. Before he could blink, he'd been pinned to the wall, hands immobile. Matt's weight, slight though it was, enough to trap him there.

Matt struggled to keep some sort of control to fight down the horrifying urge to bite the man's face, to overpower the blink of insanity on the edge of his mind. Daniel's image was warping, mutating into someone else. Someone he couldn't think about and not lose what was left of his senses. He had to get out. He had to get away. That hand under his hair.

Too angry, too panicked to notice the frozen fear on the other man's face or the fact that he'd nearly stopped breathing, he shoved him now unresisting, brutally hard into the wall, one hand gripping the fabric of his collar.

"You don't touch me!" his voice, a raw scream, rang throughout the halls. "You don't ever touch me! Now let me go!" His words and his breath were cut off suddenly as strong arms seized him from behind and he was spun around to stare into steady eyes.

"That is enough. You calm down." The voice was firm, devoid of any emotion, calm and cool. "It's all okay. Whatever you think is going on, you're wrong." The words flowed over him, a senseless babble, but the tone began to mediate the overwhelming need to run and humming muscles began to relax. The grip tightened and he found himself suddenly surrounded by those arms, picked up off his feet. Panic increased a hundredfold and he struggled, almost fighting free, a shriek of almost animal terror ripping out of him.

Clark, knowing that whatever he was seeing, it wasn't him and he tightened his grip still more and slipped into what he called his 'sooth and croon.' Mindless meaningless reassurance spoken barely on the edge of hearing. He let words flow out of him over the man in his arms. He'd made it most of the way to his destination when Matt, whose struggles had begun to taper off, suddenly flared into fury again, nails ripping across Clark's face, teeth sinking deep into his arm.

Clark grit his teeth and held on. His words cut cleanly off. Biting back a cry of pain. Six more steps had him through the door. He quickly let Matt down, moving to block the door in case he bolted. He pressed a hand over his bleeding arm.

"You stay here." His voice was strained. "You don't move. I'll be back. It's all going to be okay. I'll take you home. But you stay right there." He quickly stepped back into the hallway resisting the urge to lock the door behind him. He knew that Matt would hear the click of the bolt turning and panic more. Keeping one eye on the door, he hurried to Daniel, who had slid down the wall to crouch on the floor, head hidden in his arms.

Clark knelt by him rubbing his back, voice soft. He understood what was happening here. He'd never dreamed that Matt had such violence left in him. Never dreamed that he could do this to Daniel. He sat with him until help in the form of Elaine, mother to the world and savior to many, who was called for at the first sound of Matt's screaming, arrived wrapping her arms around him and signaling Clark.

"You go take care of the other one. I've got Danny here." She lifted him from his sitting position and Clark was relieved to see Daniel's arm loop around her neck. Good. He was responding. Nodding grimly at her, he turned down the hall wondering what kind of a mess he was going to find with Matt.

Clark stared at the shivering man crouched in the darkest corner of the infirmary. He didn't approach. He wasn't going to touch him. Not yet. He'd wait and let some of the panic fade first. Instinct screamed contact, yet years of experience spoke time. Let him be. Let him calm down. Physical touch, no matter how comfortingly intended, would only exacerbate the situation. He felt his voice would do much the same and so he waited. Fifteen minutes. Half an hour. Silently watching. Something had triggered this. God alone knew what and a solution had yet to present itself. Nobody'd said anything about any kind of post traumatic syndrome and as far as he knew, aside from the stress of a lifestyle change and the accidental addiction he'd suffered, there was nothing in his past to indicate anything like this.

Of course what had happened between him and Jeff was traumatic, but Clark thought this went deeper. Matt was experiencing some sort of flashback. Whatever it was, it was nasty, bringing out a violence clearly beyond the man's control. Sighing, watching the man shiver, he glanced at the clock. An hour. If Matt hadn't come down any by now, he wasn't going to. Knowing he couldn't simply stand and watch any longer, he stepped lightly to the supply closet pulling down a flannel blanket. Ruefully eyeing his reach and gently wrapped the blanket around the quaking form.

He stepped away quickly, alert for reaction. The anticipated violence never came. Matt reached up, pulled the edge of the blanket to his chest, uncurled himself, and finally looked up into Clark's eyes. The wildness had gone, replaced with confusion and a glazed drifted focus. Clark nodded at him and spoke softly.

"Mind if I sit down?" Matt shook his head and Clark, ignoring his jittering nerves, slowly lowered himself to the floor next to Matt, careful not to make contact. He was surprised when Matt reached out pulling him in next to him. Clark could feel the trembling and knew immediately that this was not a typical situation. Matt was terrified. Trusting that touch was what Matt was seeking, Clark slipped an arm around his shoulders, tenseness fading as Matt leaned into him.

"Want to tell me what happened, Matt?" His voice held no accusation, no anger, and Matt knew he had nothing to fear from him. Shaking his head, eyes wide, voice shaking, he looked up at Clark, bewilderment filling his eyes.

"I…I don't know. I don't even know what happened."

"Do you remember?"

Matt nodded. "I do but not like it was me. More like I watched it, C…" his voice stepped up a notch, panic beginning to infiltrate. "C, I don't know what happened! I don't know why I did that!"

Clark nodded and climbed to his feet. "That," he offered a hand up to Matt and pulled him to his feet, "is what we're going to have to find out." He let go of Matt's hand watching as he swayed trying to find balance. "You okay? What's wrong?"

Matt shook his head holding the wall. "Dizzy. I don't know." He looked up with misery filled eyes. "Am I just crazy, C? Is that all it is?"

Clark shook his head, face serious. "No, Matt. You are definitely not crazy. But something is going on and we're going to find out what it is. Now come on. I'll take you home."

* * *

"What do you mean, no? Of course you're coming!" puzzlement glared from Jeff's voice. "We've had this set up all week!" Jeff's heart was pounding and he could feel adrenaline starting to run. Not again. One by one, all of his friends were writing him off. It couldn't be happening again. And not Tom! 

All week they'd planned this and now at Jeff's friendly shout of 'you ready? You on you're way?' Tom answered 'no, sorry, I'm not coming.' Jeff felt himself ready to blow and silently began counting. One, two, three.

"Tom, why not? You said this morning you were all set." He fought to keep his voice calm. Four, five, six.

"Sorry, Jeff. Not with all the stuff going on with Matt. I heard today that he beat up some dude the other day." Seven eight, nine. He kept his tone as far from honest as he could. He didn't want Tom to know how much this hurt.

"No, he did not! Where'd you hear that? That's just crap, Tom!" Ten. Breathing deeply, trying to hear any sound of regret in his friend's voice, Jeff listened intently, struggling to control his temper.

"Jeff, some friend of mine told me. He went up to some school and beat somebody up there. I'm afraid he's too dangerous for me to go over there."

Jeff sighed. How did people find out about these things? Annoyed, his tone was sharper that he intended. "Tom, its not like he'd be camping with us. For heaven sake, he never even leaves his room. He's not gonna go stalking out to the woods with a meat cleaver and kill you in your sleep. Jeez."

Tom's voice picked up some of Jeff's sarcasm. "Well, that's pretty creepy, too. That he never leaves his room. If your brother's crazy, I'm not sure I want to go over there anyway."

Jeff felt his temper slip a notch. "He's not crazy, Tom!" He could hear the shrug in the other man's voice.

"Well, if he's not crazy, what's he seeing a shrink for?"

"Tom, he's not. He's not seeing a shrink. He barely sees me!"

"Look, don't yell at me. I said no."

Jeff twirled the phone cord absently. "Six down, two to go, Tom. My friends are running away from me like fleas off rats off a sinking ship. And I didn't even do anything. I don't suppose that will change your mind, huh?"

Tom sounded truly regretful when he replied this time. "Jeff, honest, I just don't want to come over. I am a little scared of Matt. Hey…" his voice picked up a hopeful tone. "Maybe you could come over here."

Jeff felt his mood lift as he heard his friend's suggestion. So far, half the town was afraid that Matt was a psychopathic axe murderer. The other half thought he was a crack dealer. Since Jeff knew darn well that nobody was doing anything with drugs, Jeff rather favored the axe murderer theory. Sighing, knowing there was really nothing he could do about it short of dragging Matt in his sleep out to the car, driving far far away, and shoving him out, he resigned himself once again to the inevitable. Tom had fallen under the same spell everyone else had. Who knew when it would all go back to normal?

Eyeing the stairs that led to his 'ruining everything' brother, Jeff found himself wanting to go up there and shake him. It wasn't bad enough that he'd messed up his own life, he was sucking Jeff down with him. Scowling, Jeff kicked at the baseboard. He could hear an argument faintly down the phone line and knew that Tom's wife wasn't about to let him go over. Whatever was attached to Matt was also stuck to him. It was like living with a contagious disease. Nobody wanted to come near him.

He was disappointed but unsurprised to hear Tom's voice depressed and annoyed come back on the line. "Sorry, Jeff, she said no. I don't really get it, but…sorry, man."

Jeff nodded, forgetting for the moment that Tom couldn't hear the gesture, and hung up the phone not bothering to comment. There was, after all, nothing he could say. Sighing dejectedly, he wandered out onto the porch flinging himself into the swing. The wind, biting now in the early winter, jabbed cold little spikes through his sweatshirt. There had to be something he could do. There had to be. He couldn't just sit here and pretend things were okay. If he couldn't fix it, he had to do something to bring himself away from it. Toeing the swing back and forth, the old familiar squeak soothing his heart, his mind led him down a road that, though he didn't know it now, would turn out to be the beginning of the end.

* * *

Jeff eyed his brother warily. Nose in book, Matt showed no awareness that Jeff was even standing there. Creepy. Granted, things had been quiet but Jeff's mind wouldn't let go of the horrible events of the other night. Memory held him captive. 

Clark had taken Matt away for the day and things had been great. Everyone had seemed to let out a collective breath and relax. This wonderful relaxation had gone on until Clark, at ten o'clock that night had brought back a shaking, white-faced, sweating, wild-eyed Matt and a story that terrified Jeff even now. He'd gone to his room, but he'd returned to listen on the stairs hearing a tale of violence and insanity that made him wish dearly that he'd never eavesdropped. He'd spent that night watching as his brother trembled in fear, nightmaring, waking up screaming every half hour with shrieks that tore his throat to the bleeding point. Finally, unable to take it anymore, Jeff with Adam sought sanctuary in the only room they thought might drown out Matt's screams. Their training room in the garage. Curled up in sleeping bags, they'd pretended to sleep, neither wanting to know how scared the other was.

Morning had brought a fragile peace. Matt had gotten up, showered, dressed, wordlessly eaten breakfast, and gone quietly back up to his room. He'd come out for meals with no arguments and this routine had held fast throughout the week. Clark came by most evenings, spending most of that time holed up with Matt. Jeff supposed someone must be doing something, as Matt seemed the closest to normal he'd been in weeks. Of course, he was fairly sure that no one else knew that Matt kept them awake moaning and crying in his sleep, occasionally waking up trembling from nightmares he refused to talk about. That they had no idea that all of the meals he ate obediently and quietly all came back up again just about every night. Matt was quiet and spent his days reading, or writing, or surfing the net. He took care of himself and there were no outbursts. That he never left his room except to eat seemed of little concern to anyone.

"I'm missing something, aren't I?" Jeff's clear voice rang through the bedroom startling Matt slightly. He jumped, looking up from his book, pushing his glasses he'd heretofore always refused to wear further up on his nose.

"Jeff, what're you talking about?"

Jeff shook his head. "Nothing. Can I use your sleeping bag?"

Matt looked over the top of his glasses amused at the double image it gave him. "What for? You camping out somewhere?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah. Tom was supposed to come over and we were going to camp out in the woods but _someone _whose name shall not be mentioned but who is crazy as a smokehouse rat scared his wife so much that she doesn't want him near me."

Matt made a face rolling his eyes. "I'm not crazy. Jeff, get serious."

"Yeah, I am serious. Anyway, I'm going over there. So can I use it or not?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I don't care."

Jeff yanked the bag out of the closet dislodging a pile of clothes higher than his head. Raising his eyebrows at the heap that landed at his feet, he kicked ineffectually at it, finally throwing his body into the door and locking it quickly on the mess. "Someone needs to do something about that."

Matt snorted. "It's all your stuff anyway." His eyes slid back to his book. He wondered if Jeff knew how little he was following it. He looked up again feeling eyes on him and was met with Jeff. He stood bare inches from him staring into his face.

"Matt?"

"Yeah?"

Jeff sighed, "You remember when we were little, those families from down on Memorial? The ones that dad always said were the ones whose kids we couldn't play with?"

Matt nodded painfully, sure he knew where this was going. Jeff nodded back at him.

"We are those families now. We're the ones the 'kids cant play with.' You think about that." He scooped up the sleeping bag, tossed a few changes of clothes inside it, rolled it up, and started out of the room. Matt stopped him with one foot into the hallway.

"Hey, Jeff."

"Yeah?"

"I love you, you know. I'm sorry."

Jeff nodded. "I know. I love you too." Turning his back on his brother, he slipped out the door. It was the last time any of them would see Jeff for quite some time.

* * *

Click. Click. 

Tom's head snapped up. What was that? He listened closely but the sound never repeated. Sighing, he went back to his brooding. His wife was driving him crazy. All week he'd planned to camp out in Jeff's back woods and all week his wife had smiled indulgently about it. Now, today she suddenly told him she was 'uncomfortable' about it. Didn't want him in the same vicinity as Matt. He was too 'unstable.' Made no sense to him. She'd decided no and no it was.

Frowning, Tom glanced at the phone. Jeff had hung up on him. He knew why Jeff was mad at him. Knew that Jeff more than likely thought it was he, Tom, who was afraid to go over and not his wife. Maybe he'd call back later after Jeff had some time to cool off. Try to explain that…

Click.

The sound came again cutting off his thought stream. Click click. The window. Something hitting the window? Frowning, he sidled over and peeked behind the curtain. Just as he looked catching a glimpse of a familiar rainbow colored head in the yard below, an object struck the glass directly in front of his face. Click!

Yelping, he jumped back then yanked the curtain open grinning. Jeff. He should have known. Opening the window, he leaned out as far as he could.

"What're you doing? Y'think Angie is gonna be happy if one of those rocks goes through the glass?"

Jeff held a finger to his lips. "Hush. You think she's gonna be happy if she knows I'm here? C'mon down."

Tom made a face. "You can go to the door, Jeff, I'm sure it's okay."

Jeff shook his head, face uncommonly serious. "No, I don't want anyone to know I'm here. Come on down, please?"

Sighing, thinking that his friend had gone weird in the head, Tom started down the stairs.

* * *

Clark stared blankly at the paperwork in front of him not really seeing it. His mind grappled with the problem represented in that paperwork, refusing to give up the task. Matt. Matt Hardy. That guy was eating up way too much of his attention and his time but for the life of him he couldn't just let it go. He'd never been faced with someone like Matt before. Someone who was such an enigma. Something was happening with Matt. Something bigger than any of them thought and it was ruining him. Yet nobody could find it! 

He'd spent hours and hours in Matt's company since the incident here at the center. That incident which left no doubt in Clark's mind that something very traumatic had happened to this man. Something he'd flashed back to combined with Matt's general guardedness. His distrust and hostility, the look in the eyes that always hinted at an expected attack, pointed to a background much like those of most of Clark's clients. People who had been neglected and abused, who'd had horrifying monstrosities visited on them by the very people they trusted to protect them. Starved for affection, unable to rely on anyone with no skills to rely on themselves. Turning to chemicals for relief. That was the puzzle here.

Matt displayed every characteristic of one of these people but as far as Clark was able to tell had never experienced anything that would have caused those characteristics. His family and friends were loving, supportive, and very stable. They had never neglected him. Never abused him. He was close to his friends, loved them dearly, and readily called them his family.

His childhood had been normal, in Clark's opinion, and there had been no extreme hardships. No betrayals. He understood trust and responsibility and had never ever suffered at the hands of one he loved. In fact, it looked to Clark as if Matt had never really suffered anything. The only thing he could find anywhere was the death of his mother and stress related to a major lifestyle change. It didn't add up. Even throughout the death and the changes his family had been with him, mutually supportive. None of it made sense.

An accidental addiction to tranquilizers, sure. It could happen. Did happen. But what on earth was he on them for in the first place? What had happened to cause such unbearable anxiety that it had been necessary to medicate him? And what about his claims that the Valium hadn't worked? That he'd turned to marijuana and ultimately other drugs to find relief. Relief from what? Some kind of acute stress disorder? But what would have triggered it? Whatever is was, it just wasn't here. So what on earth was going on with this guy? He couldn't even be decently and predictably addicted!

Once he'd gotten home, he'd denied ever really craving anything other than one bad night when faced with the actual drug itself. He had no cravings, no urges to go out and use. His addiction, if indeed he had been addicted, had been more a psychological dependence on effect rather than a physiological addiction to a compound. Oh certainly the Valium had caused physical dependence based on the withdrawal he'd experienced but he showed none of the behavior typical of a newly clean addict. He wasn't even getting therapy or peer support and he was staying away from it just fine. No, there was definitely a bigger picture. Sighing, frustrated, he shoved aside his coffee cup, lit a fresh cigarette off the one he had just smoked down to the filter and started over again at the beginning.


	23. Roads Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

* * *

"Hey!" Jeff stopped, leaning his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. "Tom! Slow up!"

Tom stopped, tuned, and laughed at his red faced, gasping friend. "Out of shape, Jeff? See what a so much time off will do to you?" He sauntered back reaching around Jeff and into the backpack the other man wore, pulling out a bottle of water. "Here you go, killer, drink up. You're all gone soft."

Jeff stuck his tongue out, all he had breath for, and threw himself onto the ground. Tom laughed again and prodded him with a foot.

"C'mon, ya wimp. Get up. We still got a ways to go."

Jeff's eyebrows hit the treetops. "Excuse me, what? Obviously you have misunderstood something. I am not moving. Get it? This is camp."

Tom shook his head. "Oh no. We're way too far from everything cool. We've got at least two more miles to the clearing. Come on. Up you get."

Jeff scowled, climbing to his feet with exaggerated difficulty and much groaning. "Okay, but when I fall over and die, it's up to you to drag my body home."

He gave Jeff a friendly push. "Get going. Sooner we get there, sooner you can lay down and do nothing. Man, you got lazy.

Jeff laughed. "Gimme a break. I haven't worked in months, you know. So there's not much exercise involved. So sue me."

"What about all that running from girls? Oh, oh watch it now…" he stopped, grabbing at Jeff's arm as the other man lost his balance crossing a creek bed. "You okay?"

Jeff hung on to him a minute and Tom thought he felt his friend's hand shaking. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just really tired. Okay, so I went soft. Let's go."

"Jeff, if you wanna stop we can. I don't mind. I was just messing with you."

Jeff grinned. "No way. You were right. There's nothing worth looking at here. Let's go." He shook off Tom's helping hand and firmly set off along the trail.

Jeff picked his way over the loose gravel of the creek bed, wishing the entire time that he had never had this idea. He was beginning to be dizzy and his head hurt a little. Tired and ready to stop, he scowled at Tom who was scampering ahead of him. Energy unrelenting. He fought down the urge to peg him with a rock. It wasn't like there way anything mind blowing out here that Tom was going for. Knowing that if he complained he'd be in for another ribbing, he bit his lip and trudged on thinking now that being locked in the house with his crazy 'family' was infinitely preferable to this. His disgruntlement tuned to horror when he saw Tom gazing with glee down the upcoming railroad track. The faint rumbling down the track had sent the man into paroxysms of delight.

"No!" he jogged to catch up with his friend. "No way. Don't even think about it!"

Tom spun around grinning. "Hear it, Jeff? Train's coming."

Jeff shook his head. "Don't get any ideas."

"Hear it?"

"Yeah, I hear it. You just watch it go on by."

Tom's grin turned to slightly manic laughter. "You ever jumped it, Jeff?"

"You know I haven't and I'm not going to. Now…" he laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. Tom's penchant for train jumping went back to grade school and never failed to scare him to death. "Back away from the tracks. I repeat, step away from the tracks."

Tom ran over to Jeff reaching around him, yanking the backpack off and swinging it onto his own shoulders. "You'll never make it with this on. Now look. All you do is grab the bar as it goes by. It's fun. You know you want to."

Jeff shook his head. "No, no I don't."

Tom's eyes shone with excitement. "Yeah, you do! It's fun!"

"Oh, right. First Matt goes basket case on us and then I get run over by a train. That should just finish my folks off. Perfect."

Tom frowned, exasperated. "You are not gonna get run over by a train! Don't be such a wuss, Jeff."

Jeff looked away. "I'm not, Tom." His voice was soft. "But I'm tired and I don't feel too good and I don't think I can do it." He looked at him, eyes serious. "Okay?"

Tom smiled. "You feel fine. You're just bored. This will just jazz you right back up again. Unless you're just afraid."

"Well, yeah, it is a train, Tom. I don't really want to get squished."

"Yeah, yeah, big bad old Jeff Hardy, big superstar, big wimp. C'mon, Jeff, you can do it."

Jeff's thoughts whirled. Tom had never pressured him like this before and there was a mean shine in the other man's eyes that he didn't much like. It was weird, not like him. Unsure what could be going on, Jeff finally nodded. He didn't know what else to do. "Okay, Tom, but if I get killed, you get to explain to my family."

Tom's eyebrows went up. "Cool. Just do what I tell you when I tell you."

Jeff's dubious look shifted from the tracks to his friend and back to the tracks. Steeling himself, he watched as the train, barely visible, loomed larger in his sights.

* * *

Tom sighed, exasperated. "Jeff, come ON! What is it with you?"

Jeff kept his head down, eyes stinging, mouth grim as he trudged along struggling to keep up. Tom hadn't let up on him all afternoon. No matter what he did, it seemed to be wrong. He hadn't brought anything good to drink, nothing good for munchies, he wasn't walking fast enough, he was walking too fast…even jumping the train, which had nearly wrenched his arm from the socket, hadn't redeemed him in Tom's eyes.

He didn't know what he'd done but whatever it was he was sick of it. To top it off, he'd landed badly jumping down from the train and twisted his ankle really bad. He was gamely trying not to limp on it and show Tom that he'd hurt himself but his stamina was fast caving in. His head was thumping away and he was faintly sick to his stomach. They'd been walking up the side of this road in the middle of nowhere for hours. He wanted to stop.

"Tom." His voice was ragged and hoarse as he limped to catch up to Tom. "Tom, wait up. I've had enough. Let's find someplace and camp."

Tom snorted, "Right. On the side of the road?"

"Anywhere. I don't care. I've had enough." Jeff's tone told Tom that all the bullying in the world would do no good. Jeff was done and that was it. Forcing patience into his voice, he answered with a nod.

"Okay, Jeff, but we better move off the road, huh?"

Jeff nodded and the two men worked their way down a short path ending up on the edge of a small pond. "Tom, this is good. Where are we, anyway?"

Tom shook his head. "No idea. We must have gone through tree or four towns though."

Jeff nodded ruefully rubbing at his shoulder. "I guess. Feels like my right arm must be twice as long as my left."

Tom's voice turned ugly. "There you go again. What happened to you while you were gone, Jeff?"

"Happened to me? Whaddaya mean?" Jeff was baffled. What on earth was he doing?

"All you do is complain, Jeff. You're tired. You don't feel good. You can't do it. You want to stop." He shook his head. "You never used to be like this. You used to be fun. You used to be cool. Now you're just a big baby."

"I am not! You haven't even seen me! What are you talking about?" Jeff's temper was flaring now. "I don't even know what you're talking about! This is the first time you've even seen me!"

"I know!" Tom was standing nose to nose screaming in Jeff's face. "No matter what I do, I have to get some kind of special permission just to see you. Like you're just so all that! You think you're some big superstar. Like I really need permission from your 'people' to get to see you. Ha! I knew you when we were two! Now you think you're just this big deal."

"Shut up!" Jeff's hand connected with Tom's chest shoving him rudely backward. "I never did anything to you! It's not my fault I can't leave the house. Do you think I like it?" He was screaming now relentlessly shoving his friend back toward the pond.

"Well, why'd you do it then?" Tom's voice revealed much more than anger. All of the hurt and deprivation, the grieving for his friend of so many years who now was so far removed he might as well be dead. "Why did you pick that stuff over us? You're always gone. Always. And when you are here, I can't see you!"

"I never picked anything over anyone!"

"Yeah right you did too! None of you care anything about any of us anymore!" Tom wasn't sure where all of this was coming from but he was helpless to stop. "You never called. You never even called! We're your friends! And you just totally forgot us!"

Jeff shook his head backing up. "No, Tom, you don't understand. It wasn't like that!" He was feeling dizzier by the second and Tom's words had started to sound senseless. What was he so mad about? "Tom, we're just camping, right? There's no reason I'm fighting with you. I don't even know what's going on!"

Tom's reply was a sudden low growl and he lunged at Jeff shoving him back, his weight quite a bit greater, knocking Jeff off balance. Landing hard, Jeff's teeth clicked together on his tongue, exquisite pain watering his eyes. He spat blood, fighting sudden nausea. Swallowing hard, he glanced up at Tom skittering backward suddenly to avoid Tom's fist looping down at him. Shaking his head, words deserting him, he peered through weary eyes up at his friend.

"Tom, just stop." His voice was dull and tired. He couldn't fight. Not anymore. He pulled his knees up resting his head on them, too tired and feeling too sick to carry the argument. Not caring anymore if Tom just beat his head in. Let him go ahead. He just didn't care. Sucking blood from his bitter tongue, he spat again. Then again, alarmed to see that the bright red didn't diminish. "Oh, great…" his voice was a thick mumble. "I probably bit half of it off."

Tom stood vacillating between regret, concern, and annoyance. His own actions were puzzling him. He hadn't been upset with Jeff when they left and he wasn't really sure why all of this was spilling out now. Confused with himself and upset about Jeff, he flung himself onto a fallen log, brooding.

* * *

Tom stared at the stars, mind refusing to let him sleep. Jeff hadn't said a word to him all evening. He'd sat for hours, head on knees. At one point his even breathing suggesting sleep. Tom had tried over and over to apologize but Jeff had refused to even look at him. He'd maintained silence all through the meager meal they pieced together with junk food from Jeff's bag. When finished eating, he had turned his back to his friend again resting his head on his crossed arms refusing to move.

Finally, Tom had wandered over to the edge of the water dejectedly skipping rocks watching as the ripples spread to the far edges of the pond and the shadows lengthened. When it became too dark to see he'd turned back to Jeff, surprised and baffled to see that he had pulled out the sleeping bag, climbed in, and apparently gone to sleep without saying a word. Now, lying next to Jeff, warmth creeping in and drowsiness his touchstone, his mind poured over the day's events.

He hadn't meant to be so awful to Jeff. He really didn't even know why he'd done it. He just lost his temper. He was so frustrated. He'd missed Jeff so much and Jeff had never even written or called. It felt to Tom as if Jeff had replaced his lifelong friendship in a minute. Tom sighed. He knew he probably had it all wrong but it hurt just the same. He rolled over onto his side to look at his friend. Jeff was sick. He could see that. He'd denied it, of course, claiming that he was 'just tired.' Tom could see even in the moonlight the sheen of sweat on his upper lip. He could hear how fast his breathing was. He could feel the heat coming off him.

He was worried. What if it was something bad? He didn't even know where they were. They were probably miles from anywhere. He wished they'd just stayed in the back woods. He hadn't really even wanted to jump that train. It had mostly been to challenge Jeff. If he'd listened to Jeff, they could've just walked back. Jeff could've gone home, taken an aspirin, and that would've been that. Now though, here they were. Sighing, he shut his eyes hoping for sleep.

* * *

Cold. God it was cold. Matt turned over pulling the comforter tighter around his neck. He could hear the heat humming but the room felt icy. Sighing, he curled up tighter, arms tucked under his chest. No good. Still freezing. God, it was cold! He got up, shivering a little as the air hit him, and padded across the floor into the hall. Jeff wasn't there. Where was he? Confused, he stood and stared blankly.

"Adam?"

Adam groaned. "What, Matt."

"Where's Jeff?"

Adam sighed. "You're the one he told, for heaven's sake. He went camping. God, get you blanket and go to sleep already. You're all messed up. Besides, it's hot in here. What do you need a blanket for anyway?"

Grumbling and muttering, he pulled the covers up over his head determined to ignore him.

Matt stared a moment longer, memory returning, but unease was strong in him. He suddenly wished Jeff was here tonight. Brushing hair out of his eyes and shivering lightly, he headed down the hall for an extra blanket. The feeling of unease was growing and he wished he could shake it. Something was wrong, somewhere. If only he knew what it was…


	24. Roads Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

Jeff's finger absently spun a small pebble, the rhythmic motion soothing. Over, smooth side, rough side, over, smooth side, rough side, over, watching the indention in the sandy earth grow larger. He could hear Tom's even breathing and knew he was finally asleep. He thought it would never happen but gradually he'd felt the tension in the other man's body relax. Heard the breathing level out. Finally alone. He let himself relax. Let the tears he'd been fighting all afternoon at last have their release.

He didn't understand what had gone wrong. Tom had just turned on him. He'd finally managed to find him, to be with him for while and he'd acted like Jeff was the enemy. Jeff knew how it must look to people outside of it all. It must have looked like they'd just forgotten all their old friends but Jeff had truly missed Tom. He'd wanted to call him a million times but he'd been vaguely embarrassed by all the attention. He'd felt…well…funny. It felt weird to call up Tom from somewhere and just shoot the shit as if nothing were different. He felt like a target.

It was weird and he didn't much like it. But in the end, he'd just decided to see everyone when he got home and concentrate on what he was doing. There was just so much going on, and now look. Here he was camping out with Tom just like the old days but nothing was right. Tom was mad at him. Worse than mad. He'd outright turned on him. He was getting sick too. The thumping in his head and the nausea licking at his throat, both getting worse rather than fading away, boded ill and he knew it.

He was freezing in the relatively mild night air and knew he was running a fever. Added to that, he was lost and nobody knew where he was. He'd never even said goodbye to anyone. Was Matt all right? What was happening with him?

"God…" He was unaware that he was whispering to himself. "How could I have just taken off? They must be so worried…"

Silent tears gave way to sobs and he bit down hard on his hand to stifle them. He tasted blood, salty and slick, in his mouth and nearly gagged. Still, he didn't let go. He didn't want Tom to hear him. Shivering with cold despite the warmth of the down sleeping bag, he cried himself to sleep. Alone.

* * *

"Jeff, it's okay. It's okay…"

The words faded as the dream did and Matt suddenly found himself staring up at the ceiling, the two words echoing in his head. It's okay…it's okay…what was okay? Sighing, he threaded his hands behind his head thinking hard. Jeff. He'd dreamed about Jeff but all Jeff would say was 'I cant find you. I can't feel you. Where are you?' Weird. Shaking his head, he turned over hoping to go back to sleep.

"Just a dream." He spoke the words to himself, part of him not believing it. It had felt so real. Was he so messed up that Jeff camping with a friend undid him like this? Ugh. Terrible. He had to get his head together. Drifting sleep creeping in, a sudden burning in his stomach and throat tore him from his drowsing.

Bolting upright and swallowing hard, he fought it down with everything he had. Not again. Not tonight. He reached for the water glass set on a shelf just behind his head. Sip. Swallow. No good, still hurt. The burning in his stomach was spreading up his chest into his throat, even making his ears hurt. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before the pain was followed by nausea.

Where was Jeff? Jeff was the only one who knew about this. Jeff helped him. His mouth was watering. He wasn't going to get away with anything tonight. He had minutes at best before the vomiting started. He got up quickly padding as silently as he could down the hall to the bathroom praying nobody heard him.

* * *

"Jeff?"

Tom's voice, soft and filled with concern, floated out on the night.

"Jeff, what is it? Will you talk to me?" He listened to Jeff's nearly silent sobbing for almost an hour feeling terrible. He'd never intended to say anything, not wanting to embarrass his friend but he felt bad. Obviously something was really wrong. He had to say something. Now, praying Jeff would answer him, he reached out tentatively gently setting a hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"Jeff, what's gong on? C'mon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such a dick. Tell me what's wrong." He sat up looking down on the other man. Jeff looked horribly pale even in the moonlight, shivering tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned onto his side facing Tom and fought to get his emotions back under control.

"Tom, you don't even care. Why should I even tell you?"

Tom shook his head, furious with himself. "I do care, Jeff. I'm sorry! I don't know what I was doing today. I guess I was just mad. But I do care. Please tell me? Why're you crying? I've known you forever and you never cry about anything."

Jeff nodded wiping his eyes. "I know. I just suck, don't I?"

Tom shook his head. "No, Jeff. But what's wrong?"

Sighing, Jeff sat up sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. He wanted to tell someone. Maybe it would make Tom feel better, too. Who knew? Pulling the sleeping bag tighter around him, he stared up at the trees.

"Tom, I'm really sorry that I didn't call or anything while we were gone. It was just so weird. I felt really stupid, y'know? I knew I'd have to talk about it all and I just felt funny. I didn't forget you. I didn't forget any of you. But it was so much work and I was so tired…" he trailed off remembering. "There were times when we worked 7 days a week totally beat up. Times I was sick or someone else was but we had to go anyway. And I had this thing everyone thought I was so crazy, so wild and hyper, that I always had to act that way or a hundred people wanted to know what was wrong. It was hard. I'd feel really tired and we'd have been up all night on a plane and it's eight hours off of where it was yesterday and I'm having trouble just keeping my eyes open and they want me to run around and act like an animal. Sometimes it was just…get through the day. Get through the day and you can sleep. I never even thought about missing anyone. I was just hoping I wouldn't die."

Tom's eyes went wide. "Jeff, whoa, I thought you l loved it!"

"I did. I still do. But, it was really hard work. I never meant to blow you guys off. I just…got all caught up in it." He sighed now, bitterly. "Then Matt fell apart and Adam got sick and it all just went really really bad." He shivered hard and Tom climbed out of the sleeping bag reaching forward to tuck it up closer to Jeff.

"I'm gonna make us a fire. You keep talking."

Jeff nodded, smiling slightly. "You got matches? I didn't bring any."

"No, but that's okay."

Jeff snickered. "You think you can make a fire without matches?"

Tom looked down on him, hands on hips. "You think all that time in boy scouts didn't teach me anything? I think I knew how to make a fire, Jeff."

Jeff watched silently as Tom put together the makings for a fire. "What happened around here, Tom, while I was gone?"

Tom shrugged. "Nothing much. Things don't change much. Here…." He gestured toward the newly built fire. "Get in closer to it. You're shivering really bad."

Jeff made a face. "Yeah, Tom, I kinda did notice that." He slid closer to the fire stretching his hands out toward its warmth. Tom sat down opposite him absently dropping pine needles into the flames watching them ignite.

"Jeff, what were you crying about?" He expected Jeff to brush it off. Amazement stuck when the soft voice answered him.

"I don't really know. I guess I wanted things to be different."

Tom looked up curiously. "What things? Jeff, what happened while you were gone? What was it like? What happened to Matt? And to you?"

Jeff sighed. His head was spinning and he was fast approaching motion sickness. "Tom, you don't really want to hear it."

"Yeah, Jeff. I do. I want to know what's going on. I don't understand anymore. Why can't we just be like we were?"

Jeff tossed him another handful of pine needles. "Here. Toys for you. How do you mean? Like we were?"

"Jeff, I have to ask to go see you. I can't get in your house unless my name is on some list…"

Jeff's head shot up at that. This was the first he'd heard of it. "List? What list? What do you mean you can't get in?"

Tom nodded. "There's a list. If you're name's not on it, and mine's not…" His scowl worried Jeff. He had no idea what Tom was even talking about, "then you can't go in the house."

"Tom, just walk up to the door!"

Tom laughed. "Jeff, you have no idea even what's going on in your own house."

Jeff sighed again and pulled the sleeping bag tightly around him. The fire wasn't warming him up any. "Tom, it was just crazy. You really want to hear it? How it really was?"

Tom nodded edging in closer to Jeff. He reached into the backpack pulling out the last two coke cans, wordlessly handing one to Jeff and popping the tab on his own. "I really do. I wanted to know the whole time."

Jeff nodded sipping dubiously at his coke. The way he felt, he wasn't at all sure that swallowing anything was a good idea. "Tom, it was so cool but it was crazy. We just never knew from one day to the next. From one minute to the next, what might happen. It was like 'where are we today?'"

Tom nodded. "I can see that. You guys went everywhere."

Jeff laughed. "I know. It was like…have some jet lag. We'd fall asleep everywhere. I was so tired. It was fun though. Mostly." His expression dimmed now, the sparkle that had crept into his eyes dulling. "It was fun for a while anyway. But I don't know. I missed you guys. I wanted to come home." His eyes now went misty and far away. "There was no way to stand it. There were days that I just couldn't keep going. They'd talk me into it"

"Why not, Jeff. What was so bad?"

"I don't know. I was just so tired. And I never knew where I was, or what time it was, or what day it was. It was fun. We did so much fun stuff, but you know. I don't even remember most of it. I know we went to London, but I don't remember it. We went to Tokyo. I don't remember it. It's like…it's all a big blur that doesn't even mean anything. Just screaming fans and planes and cars and vans and smells. I just…I wish I could remember it. I wish that it was going to be something special forever but really it's all already gone. And it wrecked Matt. He's never gonna get better." His voice shook on the last words and Tom moved closer nudging him gently with his shoulder.

"Jeff, you said yourself that he's better."

Jeff shook his head. "No, Tom, it was terrible. We didn't know. We had no idea." He stopped, swallowing hard as nausea suddenly backed up in his throat. Turning away from Tom, he fought it down hoping it would work. He didn't want to be sick. Gulping air swallowing repeatedly, his efforts succeeded as the nausea settled to a non-threatenign level. Sighing shaky and sweating, he turned back to Tom. "Tom, this sucks. I really don't feel good."

Tom nodded. "No shit. Jeff, I figured that out. Maybe we better just head home."

"Right," Jeff snorted. "Middle of the night and we have no idea where we are. We'd die of starvation in the woods and hikers would find our skeletons next spring."

He was surprised to hear Tom snicker. "Cool, Jeff. Gross." Laughing a little in spite of himself, he backed away from the fire a little.

"Tom, whatever I did that made you so mad, I didn't mean to. I really didn't forget any of you guys. It was just totally crazy and now…"

"I know." Tom reached out patting his friend on the back. "I'm sorry. I was just being stupid. I shouldn't have jumped the train either. Tomorrow…" he trailed off for a moment prompting Jeff to nudge him.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, we'll just go up to the road and call someone okay?"

Jeff grinned. "Maybe. Maybe not." He could feel his eyelids drooping. "Now, though all I want is sleep. If I don't I'm gonna fade out and start calling you 'mom' or something."

Tom recoiled in mock horror. "No! Ew! Okay, okay, I'll shut up. Go to sleep, Jeff." His tone turned more serious. "You gonna be okay?"

Jeff shrugged not at all sure how okay he was. "I don't know. I'll survive. G'night, Tom."

Tom nodded. "Yeah. Night."

"You gonna get back in the sleeping bag?"

Tom shook his head. "No, you'll just puke on me or something. I'll sleep out here. I'm warm."

Jeff laughed lightly. "Have it your way. Don't wake me up if you get cold though."

"No, I won't." He settled back alongside the sleeping bag reaching out to make sure Jeff was covered completely. He wasn't too sure about any of this. Soon enough though, his breathing slowed to match Jeff's and both men were asleep.


	25. Roads Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

Matt eyed the toothbrush dubiously hoping that sticking it in his mouth wasn't just going to start the whole thing up again. This was getting really old and he debated the idea of telling someone as he cautiously took a couple of swipes at his teeth. Noting no signs that brushing his teeth was going to gag him, he shrugged and continued thinking to himself that if this kept up he'd have no teeth left. He'd brush them right out of his head.

His mind wandered from the business at hand to the weird ideas in his head. Jeff. He couldn't stop thinking about Jeff. Couldn't shake the idea that something was wrong. It was like he was hallucinating. He kept smelling things. Pine and wood smoke and water. Weird. Maybe when he was finished up in here, he'd wake up Adam and they could just go over and make sure Jeff was okay.

"Baby, why didn't you come get me?" Matt jumped at the sound of Amy's voice, looking up guiltily catching her reflection in the mirror.

"Come get you for what?" his voice slurred around the toothbrush in his mouth. Holding up a finger, "Wait a minute," he spat toothpaste into the sink wincing a little. He spent entirely too much time here. Feeling her eyes on him, he made himself swallow half a glass of water, rinse out his toothbrush, wipe up the spattered droplets around the sink, and throw the towel in the hamper. Glancing uneasily up into the mirror, he hoped she'd taken his fussing around as a sign that he was okay and gone back to bed. No good. She was still there. Knowing he couldn't stall any longer, he looked up and met her eyes.

Until now, she hadn't known. He and Jeff had hidden it from everyone. Sighing, he turned leaning back against the sink trying not to look defensive or hateful. Damnit though, why did she have to come in? He hadn't asked for her help. Was there even such a thing as privacy anymore? Silent, they stared at one another. Finally tired of the standoff, Amy stepped into the room noting his crossed arms and wary gaze keeping her distance.

"Why didn't you come get me?"

He smiled a little but there was no humor in it. "You already said that. What could you have done? No reason to go get you. I'd as soon not have you in here just to stare." He started out of the room gently pushing past her. "And besides there was really no time."

"Matt," her tone stopped him. He knew it well. She had something to say and she was going to say it.

"Amy, it's after midnight."

She nodded, voice low. "I know. You sleeping? Come on." Sighing knowing he had no recourse, he followed her downstairs to the kitchen.

* * *

"So, this has been happening every night, Matt?" her eyes were wide with disbelief and he could see glints of anger there. He'd told her everything. How long this had been going on, that only Jeff had known and had been getting up with him every night, how bad it really was. As he'd expected, she was not pleased. "You vomit up everything you put in you every single night and you don't think to mention it? You hide it? What were you thinking?"

He shook his head. "I was thinking that I don't want to see the inside of a hospital again in my life. That I don't want anymore doctors poking at me. That I don't want to be sent to some place…"

Snorting defensively, Amy shoved her chair out and stood up. "Matt, you're smarter than that. Certainly nobody would send you away because you're sick. Where did you ever get an idea like that? That's nonsense and we both know it. You told Jeff and you made him promise not to tell either……Matt, this is NOT okay. It's not normal."

"I know that."

"So, why on earth would you…"

He slammed his hand down on the table cutting her off. "I don't know! I was afraid to tell you! I didn't have any idea what might happen!"

Her arms crossed her chest. "Matt, I find this incredibly difficult to understand." Her tone shifted suddenly anger giving way to compassion. "Baby, why are you suffering this all alone?"

He shook his head blinking back sudden tears. Her anger he could take. Her sympathy he wasn't quite sure he could. "I just didn't want people fussing over me." He sighed and put his head down on the table resting on crossed arms. "I wanted things to be normal. I guess I thought that if I didn't mention it…I just get sick of everyone looking at me and fussing over me. I just wanted to be normal again." He felt her hand then stroking his hair and reached up gently setting his on top of hers. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad she knew. He wanted it to stop. Maybe she could help him. He'd begun to doze enjoying the feel of her hand in his hair when his senses suddenly fired and his head shot up. Smell of pine needles and water, cool air and darkness, and then nausea slammed into him sudden and overwhelming. Seconds later he was vomiting into the sink, Amy's arms the only thing keeping him upright.

* * *

"Jeff, you okay?" Tom's voice filled with worry drifted over the crackle of the fire. No reply. Well, he hadn't really expected one. Jeff had bolted out of the sleeping bag and stumbled away from the fire a few minutes ago pulling away from the hand Tom had reached out, replying to Tom's offer of help with only a ragged and choked, 'get away from me.'

Tom had followed him only to be roughly shoved away. Respecting his friend's wishes, he'd gone back to the fire anxiously eyeing the shadows Jeff had disappeared into. Minutes of silence. He couldn't take this.

"Jeff?" Still no answer. He paced the area around the fire. It was too dark to see and he couldn't hear anything. Wishing he'd just stayed home and had never met Jeffrey Hardy, Tom flung himself down tears stinging his eyes.

Jeff let go of the branch he'd been hanging onto gasping in a lung full of air finally. He'd thought he'd never be able to breathe again. Felt like his insides were coming up. Panting and feeling like he'd never catch his breath, he sank down onto his knees. Bad. This was bad. He hurt too much. Spitting trying to clear his mouth and wishing with all his soul for a drink, he glanced back toward the fire. He knew he was in trouble. He'd never been this sick in his life. Cold chills ran up and down him shaking him so hard it was difficult to stand back up, his legs threatening to go out from under him while at the same time he felt he was on fire.

"Really bad, really bad…" the thought spun in his head. Sighing wishing he knew what to do, he made his way holding onto branches and bushes back to his friend and the fire. His mind flashed on Matt. God, he wanted him here. Wanted Matt, not Tom. He wanted to go home. Tom looked up at the sound of footsteps, relieved beyond belief to see Jeff walking back toward him. Relief turned to fear when he saw how unsteady Jeff was. Jumping to his feet, he ran over taking his friend's arm supporting him as he led him back to the fire.

"Jeff, you okay?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. I feel better. I threw up."

Tom grimaced and helped him sit down. "Jeff, we really need to get you home."

"I know but not now. I can't hike around. Not now. I'm too tired." He sighed and curled up on his side. "Tom, I'm really sorry. I felt fine when we left. I swear I did."

Tom shrugged. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it. Wish I'd left you home though." Jeff kicked out at him connecting squarely with his shin grinning.

"If you'd left me home, you'd be home too."

Tom nodded rubbing his leg. "Yeah and the problem with that is?"

Jeff snickered and turned over trying to find a comfortable spot. "It's an adventure, Tom. Look at it that way." His smile faded suddenly and he sat up, sweat suddenly breaking out on his brow. "Oh, God, Tom. I'm gonna do it again…" he started to get up but Tom stopped him, grip tight on his arm.

"It's okay, Jeff. Just stay here. I'll help you."

Jeff looked up at him for a moment nodding grimly then turned away holding onto his friend's arm waiting.

* * *

Matt felt like he was dying. Retching up nothing, feeling like all of his insides were coming unanchored. The nausea wouldn't back off. Wouldn't back down. His empty stomach was trying to rid itself of something that wasn't there. Black began to invade his vision and he held tighter to the sink praying for it to stop.

His mind filled with images he couldn't explain. The smell of smoke and pine and water. Feel of earth under fingers he knew were gripping the porcelain edge of a sink. Confused and frightened, he held on praying. A few minutes later as suddenly as it had started, the attack stopped. He drew a shaky breath once again feeling Amy's arms around him releasing the edge of the sink with hands that ached from holding so tightly. He accepted the water she held out to him and let her help him wash his face.

"Come on, baby, let's get you back to bed." Her voice was soft now, all trace of anger and irritation gone. He nodded, swallowing against the faint nausea that still hung in his throat, following her toward the stairs. Halfway there he stopped uneasiness building in him.

"Amy…" he turned gesturing toward the phone on the hall table. "Amy, I know it's late but would you call Tom's?"

Brow creased, she stared at him puzzled. "What on earth for? It's very nearly one in the morning. Why would you want me to do that? You can get through a night without Jeff. Matt…"

"No…" he shook his head. "It's not that. Something's wrong. I just think you need to check on him."

"Baby, Jeff's fine. I'm not waking them up. You'll see him in the morning."

"Amy…"

She held up a hand. "He's fine. Don't you think that if something were wrong, someone would have called us?"

He stopped, puzzled. It did make sense. "Yeah, I suppose, but I can't shake it. I just feel like something's not right."

"Matt, you're tired and you're not thinking straight. I'm not waking up his wife because you've got a case of the jitters."

Sighing knowing she wasn't going to let him anywhere near the phone, he accepted her gentle hug, let himself be led into his room quietly so as not to wake anyone. He climbed into bed and hugged her again smiling slightly when she straightened the blankets.

"Amy…" his voice was soft and faint. Amused. "You don't have to tuck me in okay?"

She smiled back at him whispering softly. "Yeah, baby, I know. I just may anyway…" she ran her fingers briefly through his hair, her eyes taking him in. "You alright now?"

He nodded thinking at that moment of nothing but how much he loved her. "I'm okay. I promise."

"If it happens again…"

"I'll come get you."

Sighing a little, she stood back looking down at him. Shaking her head, she reached down and squeezed his shoulder slightly. "Make sure you do. Sleep well, Matt."

"You too…" he watched her cross the room, partially close the door, and listened to her footsteps fade down the hall.

Almost immediately, Adam entered. "Did she really tuck you in?" he teased.

Matt grinned and shook his head. "No, but she wanted to."

"You okay to take a ride?"

"What? Where?"

"Over to Tom's. I overheard what you told her. I can't sleep either. I'm edgy too. You up for it?"

Matt sat up nodding. He padded across the room pulling clothes out of the dresser and putting them on before heading out.

* * *

A/N: Is anyone actually still reading this anymore? Just wondering cuz the reviews have been pretty non-existent and there is still quite a few more chapters left. Is it worth posting more? Comments would be greatly appreciated. Thanks! 


	26. Roads Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and pm's guys!

"How long have you been feeling this way, Matt?" Adam's soft voice carried an edge of anxiety. "Is that why you were sick? Because you're worried about Jeff?"

Matt shook his head, eyes fixed on his sneakers, ears tuned to the scratch of pebbles dislodging as he walked. "I don't know. I woke up scared. I don't think that's why I got sick though, but…" he stopped, eyes puzzled. "The last couple of times it almost seemed like I was somewhere else."

"How do you mean?"

Again the head shake. "I don't know. But I felt like if I opened my eyes I'd be someplace else. I could smell things, smoke and water and trees…it smelled like camping. Maybe because I was thinking about Jeff." He shrugged and kept walking, guilty pleasure being outside walking familiar streets with Adam beside him. It'd been so long that he'd been cooped up inside. The breeze on his face felt good. If they would just find Jeff…

Adam watched Matt absently lost in his own thoughts. He'd been uneasy about Jeff since supper when he'd asked where he was and received 'camping out with Tom' for a reply. He had no idea why but the words had sent a chill up his back. The idea that something was wrong somewhere had seeded itself in his head almost immediately. He'd shoved aside his vague uneasiness telling himself he was being stupid. Jeff was fine. Tom was fine.

For Matt sleep hadn't come easy and when it had, it'd been filled with unpleasant and disturbing dreams. Dreams of cold, darkness, fear, filled with the sound of his brother's voice calling him. Calling Matt. He'd woken up a dozen times, each time more agitated than the last.

"You know we're not gonna find them there, don't you…"

Matt shot him a glance then dropped his eyes back to the ground nodding. "Yeah, I know. So, we're wasting our time, aren't we? And Jeff…" sighing, he picked up a rock absently tossing it from hand to hand. "I don't know what to do, Adam. I'm wishing so hard to find them there camped out in the yard, but here…" he tapped his chest, "here, I know I'm not going to. You think we should skip it and just start hunting?"

"Hunt where, Matt?" Adam asked him gently. "We better make sure first. We could both just be nuts."

Nodding flinging the little pebble he'd been playing with away in frustration, Matt sighed. "I know. I hope we are. Okay, but if they're not there, then what?"

"Matt," Adam's eyes went bleak, "we'll know that very soon."

* * *

Jeff's eyes closed. God he was tired. The ground, rough and bumpy, suddenly sinkingly soft and warm. Heat from the fire warmed his face and the breeze in his hair felt good and peaceful, like his room on a summer evening with the breeze blowing curtains brushing against his skin. He snuggled deeper into the sleeping bag, hand snaking under the makeshift pillow of Tom's jacket, pleasantly lightheaded. Tense muscles relaxed and the sounds of the world faded as sleep pulled him under and his breathing slowed and evened out. 

Behind closed lids, eyes moved, and his voice murmured softly as dreams set in taking him with them. Tom sat on the other side of the fire watching his friend sleep. Relief that Jeff had finally dozed off, and as peacefully as he had, negated somewhat by the ominous noises he could hear in Jeff's breathing. Inhale, liquid and slightly foggy, it made him want to clear his own throat listening to it. Exhale, high pitched whistles, strange little sounds like no breathing he'd ever heard before.

Sighing in frustration, he slid closer reaching out to gently set the back of his hand to the other man's flushed cheeks pulling it back in alarm. Jeff's skin was hot enough to nearly burn. He couldn't just let it go, he had to do something. But he looked so peaceful, he couldn't bear to wake him not knowing how terrible he felt. Shaking his head, he sat back with tears stinging his eyes. Why had he ever made him do this? Calling himself every name he could think of, helpless to come up with a solution, he gave up then and stretched out again next to Jeff. Maybe this time, they'd be able to sleep through until morning.

* * *

Matt eyed the yard devoid of tent, bags, or campers. He wasn't surprised but his heart had hoped. Sighing bleakly, he turned to Adam. 

"Now what, Adam? He's not here."

Adam shook his head. "I don't know, Matt. Maybe we should walk out into the woods, just in case. They might've hiked out to the clearing."

"You want to try to walk out there in the dark? Now? Adam, you know they're not out there. Why do you want to keep wasting our time?" he spun on his heel heading for the back door of the Elliot's house. Adam seeing instantly what he was up to trotted up after him.

"Matt, no, you can't wake anybody up until we know we have to."

"Adam!" Matt shoved off the restraining hand Adam had extended. "We do know. He's not here. They are not here. We both know something's wrong. Now why do you want to keep stalling?" Matt rubbed his chest absently coughing lightly. He was beginning to feel a little out of breath. "We have to at least find out if he's with Tom. And to do that, Adam…" he gestured expansively at the back of the house, "we have to wake these people up. Now let's go."

Adam grabbed the back of his shirt. "Matt, stop! Listen to reason. If we wake them up, they'll be all in a panic thinking someone's dead or something and the guys could just be out in the back woods. We owe it to everyone's peace of mind to make sure."

Matt wrenched away, one hand held warningly. "Don't you grab me again. I do know! And so do you!" he broke off, coughing. His chest burned now and he was feeling as if he couldn't get enough air. Adam slid an arm around him.

"See? You see? You need to get home. You're getting sick. You shouldn't even be out here."

Matt pulled back struggling to breathe. "I am not sick. It's not me. It's Jeff. It's him who's sick and we have to find him."

"Matt, you have no way of knowing that." He didn't want to admit that he felt exactly the same thing only much milder. It made no sense. There was no way they could know what Jeff was feeling. Matt, however, was having none of it. He knew what he knew.

"Adam, I know. I can feel it." He turned again to the door and Adam just stood, unexplained fury suddenly flooding him.

"What are you, anyway? The psychic friends network? Just stop it! You're just trying to freak me out! There is no way you could know anything about where Jeff is. Or how he is. Or anything at all!"

Matt turned back to him, unperturbed. "You might want to stop yelling or you'll wake the whole neighborhood up on your own." He reached out and rapped loudly on the door glancing back at Adam. Adam was scared. He knew it. He was, too, but he had to find out. He had to know. Stepping back, he watched as lights blinked on inside the house.

* * *

Tom pulled his shirt out of the stream and wrung it out hoping it wasn't too cold. Trotting back to the fire, he crouched next to Jeff giving him a gentle shake. 

"Jeff, sit up some, now. Come on."

Jeff cracked an eye open, gazed bleakly at his friend, and let his eyes shut again. He wasn't sitting up. He was dying. He knew he was. It felt like his lungs were filled with gravel and every breath burned like fire. He was exhausted and terrified that he'd simply become too tired to continue the struggle to breathe. Nausea ran up and down his throat and his stomach had started to hurt. Whatever this was it was getting worse instead of better and he was scared.

Shivering suddenly, he opened his eyes to see Tom unzipping the sleeping bag. He reached weakly to pull it shut. The night air was cold. Too cold. Tom stopped his hand gently.

"Jeff, you're way too hot. You need to cool down."

"No, Tom." Jeff winced. His throat felt like someone was striking matches on it. "Tom, I'm cold."

Tom nodded. "I know. But it's cause you have a really bad fever." He put on a stern face and shook his finger in Jeff''s face. "Don't make me fight with you about this. The condition you're in, I'll take you easy."

Jeff smiled faintly and pulled his hand back letting Tom continue his ministrations. "Here," Tom handed Jeff the wet t-shirt. "Rub this on your face." Jeff did as he was told sighing a little. It felt good. His face was burning. "Jeff, I really need you to sit up."

"What for?"

"So you can get your shirt off. You need to cool off. Don't make me toss you in the stream." Jeff's eyebrows raised at that. He felt a little better with the wet cloth against his head, a little clearer.

"Tom, I'd have to hurt you." He put the cloth down and started to sit up whimpering a little as aching muscles screamed, grabbing Tom's hand. "Oh, Tom. Help me." Tom pulled him up and moved to sit behind him supporting his back.

"Jeff, you are in bad shape. Can you get your shirt off?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. Tom, I feel like I'm gonna die."

Tom sighed. He was afraid of just that but he wasn't about to tell Jeff. "Aw, don't be a baby. You're gonna be fine. It's just the flu or something. You have really crappy timing though."

"Me? You're the one that wanted to ride the train. If it weren't for you, we'd be in your back woods."

Tom glanced at him taking in the flushed sweating face and fever bright eyes. The banter in his words dried up then and he nodded, speaking softly. "Yeah, Jeff, I know and I've never been more sorry about anything in my life. Come on. Get you arms up." He helped Jeff out of as many of his clothes as possible, anxiety going up as his friend winced with every movement. He stacked them up under the top of sleeping bag and gestured to Jeff to lie back down. "Maybe, you'll breathe better with your head up like that. I don't know. That's what I do anyway." He reached out and took his t-shirt back. "I'm gonna go soak this down again. Gimme yours, too. I'll be right back." Jeff nodded and handed him the other shirt. His eyes closed and he felt himself drifting. "Jeff, hey. Jeff, wake up."

* * *

Jeff's eyes opened. Everything was black and he couldn't hear the fire. What was going on? 

"Jeff!" The voice, too loud, stabbed into his head knifelike.

"Jeez, could you quiet down? I have a headache."

"Oh, sorry." The voice softened a little. "Jeff, where are you?"

"Huh?" he was a little more awake now, looking around. It sounded like Matt but there was nobody here. Not even Tom. And where was the fire? The voice came out of the darkness again.

"Jeffrey, where are you? We can't find you. Jeff, tell me where you are." Jeff shook his head. "Where are you? I can't see you." He felt a touch then on his arm and all but leaped out of his skin. Gasping struggling to slow his breathing, he looked at his arm, saw a hand, followed the hand up an arm to a shoulder and then to a face. Matt. How could Matt be here?

"Matt? Am I dreaming?"

Matt smiled. "Maybe. I don't know. But I need to know where you are."

Jeff clutched his brother's hand. "I don't know what to do. I'm sick, Matt." He felt his brother's arm slide around him pulling him close and he rested his head gratefully on his shoulder.

"I know, Jeff. I know you are. It's gonna be okay but I need to know where you are."

Jeff sighed. "I don't know. We jumped the train. I don't know where we are." He shivered a little and Matt's arms tightened around him.

"What'd you do that for, Jeff?"

"I don't know. I wanna go home, Matt. I'm scared." He felt his brother's hand warm and soothing stroking his hair.

"I know, Jeff. It's gonna be okay." He relaxed into him startling suddenly when he felt him begin to grow insubstantial and wispy.

"Matt? Matt, please don't leave!" One last gentle touch on his arm and his brother was gone like mist. Fear flooding him, alone in the dark, he felt himself starting to cry. Almost immediately arms were around him again and dark was replaced by the glow of the fire. He looked up into worried brown eyes. Tom. "Tom…" his throat felt clogged and he cleared it wincing in pain turning away to spit out the mouthful of stuff he'd brought up. "Tom, I'm going insane. I was talking to my brother."

Tom shook his head. "It's the fever, Jeff. You're not crazy. Try to go back to sleep."

"Don't go anywhere, Tom. Okay? Don't leave me alone."

Tom shook his head. "No way, Jeff. Won't do it. Now go back to sleep."

Jeff settled back down again hanging on to his friend's hand. Gazing into the fire, watching the flames licking at the branches, he pulled his brother's face into his mind refusing to let it go.

'Matt,' his thought carried the force of a prayer. 'Matt, you got to find us. Please." The thought became a chant that eventually followed him down into sleep.


	27. Roads Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

Sandra Elliot hung up the phone glancing uneasily into the kitchen where the two men sat. She felt slightly guilty having called their house, almost as if she were tattling. Odd feeling. Sighing, she joined them at the table.

"Guys, I called your house. Jay is on his way over to get you." Matt looked up into her eyes, his stare unnerving.

"Did you check the whole house to see if Tom was here?"

She nodded. "Yes, and you were right. He's gone. I asked my son, Dave, and he said he saw them sneaking away sometime after supper. So we know they're together. Chris is coming now,too. He's going to hike out to the clearing to see if they're out there."

Matt took a shaky breath then, and she saw relief on his face. "He's not alone. Thank God. He's not alone. But they're in trouble. You have to believe me. They're in serious trouble."

She nodded. She did believe him. As soon as she'd opened her kitchen door to them, she'd known something was very wrong. Something dark and brooding had settled into her heart. Something that told her that her husband was in danger and alone. Sighing again, she tapped on the table frustrated. How had it come to be that her husband and his friend were god knew where in the middle of the night? She suspected she knew. Her own close mindedness. Her own fears and insecurities. If she'd only swallowed her fear, ignored the gossip, and just let the guys be together. They'd have felt no need to sneak away.

"Guys, this is my fault. I'm the one that told them they couldn't do this. If I'd been a little less dense, they'd be right out back."

Matt shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "How were you dense? You were right. I wouldn't want him around me either…" his bitter tone tore at her heart as she took another long look at him. Drawn and pale eyes smudged with black circles visible even in the dim light. The sparkle and gleam in those eyes gone replaced by dull dread.

'Oh, dear god, the poor guy,' the words flitted through her mind as her eyes took him in. Too thin. Too limp. Beaten and defeated. He had the air of someone who'd fought long and hard and in the end won only by default. She didn't know what had happened to him, what had made him do the things she'd heard he'd done, but he was still just Matt. The same Matt who'd spent hours and days parked in her kitchen joking with the guys. A man she knew almost as well as she knew her own husband. There had never been any malice in Matt. Never any dishonesty and she could see that there was none now. Whatever had happened to him out there in that crazy world he'd fallen into, it was support he needed, not condemnation. He'd been hurt. Badly hurt. It was in his eyes. Fear for him, she felt in abundance. Fear of him disappeared as rapidly as mist on a hot day.

Before she could stop herself, she'd leaned forward pulling first Adam into a quick embrace, then gently taking hold of Matt. He tensed for just a moment, eyes fearful, but a second later let himself be pulled into her hug resting his head for just a second on her shoulder. Something in him, something that had been would painfully tight, loosened a notch then and he felt himself beginning to breathe easier. There was nothing to fear. Sandra pushed him away from her, one hand under his chin making him look into her eyes.

"Matt, I've known you forever. Of all of the people in this town, I should have known enough to avoid making a judgement about you."

Adam shook his head. "You can't help what you hear. It sounds pretty horrifying."

She released Matt's face then was pleased to note that he didn't drop his eyes but continued to make contact. "It is, Adam, but it's also about one of our own and I think that there are a lot of us who need to wake up. You, you're family. You're part of all of us and we've always taken care of our own. When all of this happened, we should have pulled in to help. Not backed away and locked our doors."

Matt swallowed hard, absurdly close to tears, and looked down rubbing furiously at his eyes. He was finding anger much easier to deal with lately, than understanding. He looked up at her again, gaze direct.

"Why did you then? Why did everyone just slam their doors in our faces? And why Jeff? He didn't do anything."

She nodded. "I don't know, Matt. I guess the stories we were hearing coupled with you all being gone out on the road in the wrestling business, I guess we all thought it was inevitable that you'd go bad. After all, you left us." She smiled gently chiding herself for her jealousy. "So, when all this happened, when we heard about you, well, I guess we all just leaped to conclusions. And the fact that none of us can even get near you, now that doesn't help."

He sighed, unable to think of anything to say that would mean anything. The sigh became a cough that rapidly escalated into a racking attack. Shoving his chair out, he stumbled to the back door and let himself out onto the back porch. Scowling, Adam followed watching him gagging and spitting over the railing. He looked down at Sandra as she came to stand beside him. Her face was concerned. She glanced a question at him and he shrugged. He had no idea what was wrong with Matt, but he knew it wasn't what it seemed.

Matt thought it was Jeff. Crazy as that was, Adam very nearly understood that. He felt some of it, too. He snapped back from what was quickly becoming a daydream just in time to see Sandra step to Matt behind him and reach out to touch his shoulder. Tensing knowing what was coming, reflex took over and he shouted out Matt's name.

Matt gasped in air, gratefully. The attack had lasted so long he'd been afraid he'd never catch his breath again. As his breathing began to slow and his stomach settled to the point where he was sure he wasn't going to be sick, he leaned limp and exhausted against the rail. His mind had drifted outward a little when the touch came on his arm. Panic moved in instantly and he jumped back, the sound from his throat animal and threatened as his fist came up and out.

"Matt!"

Adam's shout brought him up short and his fist dropped as he saw what he'd been about to do. Eyes huge, he stared at Sandra, face draining of color.

"Oh, no. Oh, I'm sorry." His eyes filled up then and he started to shake knowing what it must have seemed like. Adam stepped in close to him slipping an arm around him.

"I'm sorry. He's just jumpy. You can't really make any sudden moves at him. We should have told you. I'm really sorry. We better go."

She shook her head. "No, no it's alright. You both come back inside. You're not walking anywhere at this hour. Jay's on his way. I should have known better than to sneak up behind him and scare him half to death." She smiled softly, taking Matt's hand. "Come on back in. It's okay. No harm done."

He looked at her, fear and guilt fading to something like relief and moved ahead of her back into the house stopping suddenly, face to face with a blonde haired man with an expression vacillating between concern and glee. Chris. Breaking into a grin in spite of himself.

"God, you look gross. Do you know that?"

Matt shrugged. "I know. Things went kinda nuts." He sighed then, happiness over seeing his friend here.

"Well, I'm off on the great Jeff and Tom hunt. You want to come out with us, see if we can find those two?"

Adam stepped in then. "Matt, would you mind too much staying here? I…it just makes me…"

Matt waved him off. "I'm too tired to hike out there now anyway. You guys go. But hurry. And they're not there anyway." The other two exchanged glances as they let themselves out heading into the woods.

Matt lay dozing on the living room couch as the voices from the kitchen drifted in on him. Just a wash of sound that didn't make much sense. They wanted to go find Jeff. He hadn't been out in the back woods. Good. Go find him. Someone go find him. Someone else saying it was silly. Jeff would home by morning. The guys were fine. They shouldn't have gone without telling someone but that didn't mean anything was wrong. Was that Amy? When had she arrived? No. Go find him. He's not okay. Too sleepy to make his thoughts heard. He smiled faintly as he felt a light blanket thrown over him. Nice. Nice people here. His thoughts drifted on and the scent of camping came to him again. Slowly, easily, sleep took over and he slipped into dreams.

* * *

Light, pale and cold, washed over his face breaking the light sleep he'd finally achieved. Opening gritty eyes wincing as the light stabbed into them, he glanced around. Still in the woods. At least it was light. Cold though. Shivering lightly, he tugged on the edge of the sleeping bag trapped under Tom's sleeping form. Scowling, he pulled a little harder getting no results at all. Weak, he fell back, too tired to continue. It was just as well, he had to get up anyway. 

He sat up, head and neck screaming, and slowly made his way up to his knees. His shivering became sweating as things began to spin and nausea began to back up in his throat. Realizing that there was no way he was getting up on his own, he lay back down knowing he'd have to wake his friend to help him. Swallowing gingerly around the pain in his throat, he gently nudged Tom.

"Hey," his voice was barely there and though it hurt he tried to speak louder. "Tom, wake up." His clogged throat closed starting him coughing, pain flooding his throat, chest, and head. Struggling to sit up again hoping he'd be able to breathe better feeling the nausea wash over him again. "Tom," he choked out the words. "Tom, help me!"

Tom slept on, exhaustion having taken him down far too deeply to hear anything. Jeff struggled out of the sleeping bag sliding out rather than trying to get up still hacking painfully knowing that it was a matter of seconds before the coughing made him sick. He managed to crawl a few feet away before the nausea flooded him and vomiting started again. Too much pain now, he collapsed onto his side still retching.

"God," the prayer in his mind held no drama, only sincere wish, "Don't do this. Just kill me now." Beside him, Tom slept on, oblivious.

* * *

"Tom, you have to get him home. He's really sick. It's not just the flu. You have to get him out of there." Tom stared at the ground feeling guilty. He knew. He looked up at Matt, who sat next to him scowling. 

"I don't know where we are though, Matt. We could just follow the tracks back but he'll never make it."

"Then get on up to the road and flag somebody down. Go find a phone and call someone. But you can't just sit there."

"I don't want to leave him alone though. What if he dies?"

Matt sighed. "Tom, he just might if you don't do something." He glanced behind him maybe seeing something in the darkness that Tom couldn't. "Which way was the train headed, Tom, when you jumped it?"

"West out of town."

Matt nodded still gazing behind him in the darkness. "You better wake up now. I know you're tired but…" he gestured behind him and raised his eyebrows at Tom trying to smile. "People are coming but don't just sit there, Tom. Don't let him go."

Tom looked down hoping he'd be able to do what he'd been asked. When he looked up again, Matt was gone. Darkness was gone. And Jeff was on the ground gasping for air.


	28. Roads Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

Clark eyed the television apprehensively. He wasn't sure what was coming but he knew it wasn't going to do much for his peace of mind. The call from Dan had really unnerved him.

"C," Dan's voice had crackled over cell phone static. "Get the TV on and take a look. Looks like Matt's family has some more trouble. This time it's the younger one. You should just take them all and move them right on in. Safer for them."

There hadn't been much after that. Danny had only caught the tale end of the mention on the early news and had no idea what it was all about. He was on his way to bed unwilling to talk. Clark knew better than to push him. Danny tired was the most unpleasant experience going. He'd said goodnight and switched on the TV, resigned to sitting up all night. Matt and his family had become the bane of his existence, problems without solutions, mysteries with no clues. Sighing, he pulled out Matt's files again starting them for the hundredth time. He was missing something. There was something that tied it all together, if only he could spot it. He slammed the book shut suddenly. With the Hardy file came a chain smoking marathon. His lungs just couldn't take it. Shaking his head, he reached for the phone. Amanda might just know what was going on now. She stayed pretty up on things.

* * *

Amanda wiped her hands off, the paint clinging stubbornly under her nail. Damn stuff, she'd never switch again. She hated this stuff. The ringing phone suddenly made her hang her head with a chuckle. 'Oh great,' the thought was tinged with sarcasm. 'Phone, wonderful. Wouldn't you know. Nobody ever wants to talk to me but now that I have paint all over my hands…' Sighing, she palmed the phone up hoping she didn't end up with an earful of paint.

"Yeah, hello?" The exasperation in her voice earned a chuckle from the party on the other end.

"Mandy? Caught you painting? It's C"

She grinned, inconvenience forgiven. "Hey, C. It's okay. What's up?"

"Well, have you had the news on today?" his voice sounded strained and she frowned.

"Yeah, C, I have. What's wrong?"

"Did you happen to see a Hardy kid on there?"

She laughed, then. "Oh, that. Yeah, I did. Weird, isn't it? That they put it on the news?"

His voice came back frustrated. "I don't know what 'that' is, Mandy. Dan just called and told me they had trouble with Jeff. That it was on the news. I…"

She cut in wedging the phone between her ear and her shoulder while she soaked her hands in turpentine. "It was nothing. C, I guess Jeff and some other guy took off tonight. I guess families are afraid they're lost."

"Took off?" his voice was alarmed. "As in ran away?"

She shook her head unmindful of the fact that he couldn't see her. "No, C, as in went camping. They apparently were told that they shouldn't go and decided to go ahead anyway. For whatever reason, the police are looking for them and they asked people to keep an eye out. Not that they suspect foul play or something. Actually…  
she glanced up at the clock. "It should run again in about ten minutes. I'll put it on and we can watch it together if you're as nervous as you sound."

"Did it really sound to you as if it were nothing?"

"Yeah, C, but I was painting so I might have missed something."

He sighed then. "No, Mandy. I'll let you go. I'll watch it though. I wish I'd never met these people." Frowning sympathetically, she rinsed and dried her hands and moved to switch on the TV.

"How's it going with them, C? Any progress at all?"

"No. Oh, things look better but that guy is still trapped in something. He's still withdrawn. He's just not right and I'm damned if I'm any closer to finding out why. Hell of it is, I don't think he knows. If he did, I think he'd be the first one to say it. Whatever, I'll let you get cleaned up."

"Yeah, well, call back if you need to, C. I'm up late."

He laughed a little at that. "Yeah, honey, I know you are. See you later."

She hung up smiling. He got so hung up on people. Thank God. If he didn't, she'd probably still be all strung out and homeless. Curling up comfortably, she flipped to the local news and settled back.

"Oh my God," Amanda, catching what she'd missed the first time, turned wide eyed, snatched up the phone, and dialed Clark. One ring, two, three… "Come on, come on." Her voice was strained. Where was he? Seven, eight, nine. She was about to hang up when a breathless Clark finally picked up.

"Yeah, hello? What is it?" his tone tipped her off.

"You saw it didn't you? My God, Clark, those two were gone all last night, all day today, and they're still out there and it's like 11:30 at night! We have to do something."

He barked the reply at her. "Then hang up the damned phone. I was on my way out the door to pick you up when you called! I'll be there in fifteen. Bye."

The line went dead. Stunned, fear charged adrenaline racing in her veins. Amanda hung up the receiver and headed off to get dressed.

* * *

"Aw, Jeff, come on. You can make it. The road's not far. I know it's not."

Jeff shook his head panting. "Tom, I can't. I got to stop." He sank down onto the ground, soaked hair hanging in his face. His lung felt full of broken glass. Every breath screaming in agony. It hurt so much to move. If he could just lie down, just for a few minutes…

Tom was ready to start ripping his own hair out. He'd convinced Jeff this morning to try to hike up the road but it just wasn't working. He had no idea in which direction home lay, tried to follow the path of least resistance, and had to face the fact that they were lost. Added to that was the fact that Jeff could barely move. He could only walk a few steps at a time, stopping every few minutes to sit down and rest leaning heavily on Tom for every step unable to catch his breath, or worse coughing until his lips went bluish. He was sweating buckets but every sip of water he took came right back up.

Nobody's fool, Tom knew how dangerous that was. If the fever kept on and he kept sweating unable to drink anything, he was going to end up in big trouble. In the last few hours, he'd taken to suddenly stopping and lying down not falling asleep as much as just zoning out, eyes half-open, body limp, unresponsive. After half an hour or so, he'd always come around again but Tom was scared. They had to get him home and they had to do it fast. No cars along this road all day and now it was night again. Where could they be? Why were there no people? No houses, no cars, no anybody. And where was this town? This road must lead somewhere. Sighing as he saw his friend starting to slip into semi-consciousness again, he reached down and pulled him to his feet.

"Jeff, come on. Just walk. We don't have any more time."

Jeff flung an arm around him nodding. "I know. I know. It's dark again. We've been walking all day? How come I don't remember?"

Tom shot him a worried glance. "I don't know, Jeff. Cause I sure remember every minute. Maybe if we could go more than ten steps without you sitting down."

"I'm sorry. I won't sit down again. Just down make me jump that train."

Tom's brow knit. "What train, Jeff?" He kept walking literally dragging his friend along.

"That one that's coming.

Sighing, he hugged Jeff a little, pulling him closer. "Don't worry, Jeff. I'm not gonna make you jump the train. I promise. Just try to keep walking."

Nodding, Jeff plodded on, the world swimming in and out of focus, consciousness a pinpoint behind his eyes.

* * *

"No! I cant! Leave me alone!" Matt's shout rang throughout the house as he slammed into the living room away from Trish. Slamming his glass down on the table, he stomped across the room. Why didn't they understand? He wanted to find Jeff. He did! But he couldn't. He couldn't get past those people out there. Why didn't they just do what he said? Everyone was out looking and nobody was going where he told them to go! Frustrated beyond belief, he picked up the crystal vase from the mantel flinging it without thought across the room into the wall. The tinkling crash less than satisfying, he grabbed the water glass he'd just set down sending it after the vase quickly followed by every other breakable he could get his hands on. He turned swinging when arms grabbed him from behind.

"Damn it, Matt!" Trish ducked his flying fist and shoved him hard against the wall. "Will you stop it! You're being an idiot! Don't you dare try to hit me again. I'll take your head off. Now calm down."

Breathing hard teeth bared, he glared at her barely in control struggling to take hold of his temper. He pushed her roughly away and threw himself down on the couch.

"Trish, you just don't get it! Don't you think I'd be out there if I could? He's my brother!"

She shook her head. "Then why aren't you? What's your problem that you can't go help? You can't stay alone so I can't go help. You're so damned useless!"

"No, I'm not! Trish, you don't understand!" His temper flared again mostly at himself. He was useless. There was no good reason for his inability to leave the house. No good reason for his absolute terror of being in the house alone. Biting his lip, almost hard enough to bleed, he fought down the urge to start throwing things again jumping when the doorbell suddenly rang. Trish, noting his reaction sneered.

"You see? Your own doorbell and you act like it's some sort of invasion force."

Unable to meet her eyes, he dropped his head into his hands. "Trish! Just get the fucking door!" He shoved her rudely off the couch and curled himself up into the corner of it. "Just find out who it is! Just get out of my face!"

Tired of hearing him yell at her, she went to the door wondering just how much longer she'd be able to put up with him.

* * *

"Jeff! Aw, Jeff, please don't do this. Come on, please." Tom was approaching panic. Things had gone from bad to worse in nearly a heartbeat. He'd thought things were improving. He and Jeff had managed to pick up a little speed, Jeff actually walking on his own and not stopping every couple of minutes. A glow on the horizon spoke 'town' to him and he'd been feeling hopeful. Then Jeff had pause, hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Tom, slow up. I feel really weird." Tom had looked at him alarmed at the slurred sound of his words.

"What's up, Jeff. You need to sit down for a minute?" Jeff had nodded but continued to stand there, eyes blank. His eyes were flickering making Tom wonder if he could see. "Jeff, what's up? Go ahead and sit down if you need to."

Jeff had looked at him then and his face had been frighteningly wild. He'd looked ready to bolt yet when he spoke his voice was vague and distant.

"Tom, I'm gonna be sick, I think."

Tom had nodded. "That's okay. Come on and sit down." He'd taken his friend's arm and started to lead him a little off the road when Jeff had suddenly collapsed bonelessly with no warning. "Aw, Jeff…" Tom had knelt down intending to help him back up and noticed that Jeff wasn't simply lying there. His entire body was trembling faintly and as he watched the trembling had grown stronger. Jeff's breathing had become noisy and irregular. Weird. "Oh, no." Cold dreamy fear had flooded him then, the realization that this was beyond anything he knew how to deal with. Some sort of convulsion from the fever, he'd heard that could happen. That must be what this was.

Remembering only that he shouldn't touch him for fear of hurting him, he had simply watched crying and praying with all his soul that his friend didn't die. Now, a few minutes later, whatever it was had stopped and Jeff was simply lying there, eyes partly open, bloody spit running down his chin. Panic came now because even though he was breathing he wasn't moving.

"Jeff, please…" he shook him harder than he intended, desperate to get a response. He was edging on hysteria when lights suddenly spilled over him and he looked up to see a car pulling over, close enough to spray gravel into his face.


	29. Roads Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

"Chris, pull over for a minute." Adam's voice was odd and Chris pulled over immediately looking over at him with concern.

"What is it, Adam. You okay?"

Adam's eyes had gone distant and bleak. "I don't know. I feel a little weird. I just want to get out for a minute."

Chris nodded and shut the engine off. God knew he was feeling plenty weird himself. They'd been out for close to fifteen hours hunting all over the east of North Carolina following the track lines. So far they'd hiked into at least a hundred clearings and up a hundred paths with no sign of the guys. He watched Adam wander off to the edge of the woods and sit down back against a tree. He was worried to death. He could see it in his face. Sighing, he got out of the car and walked over to Adam and his tree.

"Mind if I join you?"

Adam shook his head. "No, but it might get unpleasant. I'm trying to figure out if I'm about to be sick or not."

Shaking his head, Chris sat down next to him. "Don't worry about it. If you do get sick just don't aim at me." He settled himself against the tree. "You okay? You want to go home?"

Another head shake. "No, I want to find Jeff. I just feel really weird though. My head feels weird."

"Weird how?"

Adam looked baffled. "I don't know. Just strange. Things keep going in and out of focus. Blurry kind of. Things sound a little funny. But it feels weird inside. Inside my head. I don't know how to describe it. I'm probably just beyond tired."

Chris looked up at him curiously. "Look at me for a minute." Adam obliged and Chris' face became puzzled. "No wonder you can't see. Your eyes are flickering back and forth like crazy, Adam. Your eyeballs are shaking. You really need some sleep."

Adam smiled faintly. "I guess I do. But I can't go home, Chris, not until someone finds them."

"Yeah." Chris sighed and stretched his legs. "I know. Tom has to have the train thing. Tell you the truth, I'm kinda surprised Jeff did it. Long as I've known him, he's always said no. If I remember right, he's always thought Tom was loopy for doing it."

Adam nodded. "And Tom's always avoided it with Jeff. He just never did it with Jeff around. The whole thing's weird. It sounds really crazy but I think Matt's right. I think Jeff is sick and I think they're not back because they're in big trouble."

"Yeah, I think he's right too, Adam."

Adam sighed swallowing hard. "Chris, I really don't feel good."

"You know I can see that. It's okay. Sit here as long as you need to. You want a drink or something? I got some water in the car." A short nod was his reply and he got up briefly touching his friend's shoulder. "I'll be right back."

Routing around in the car, Chris felt himself beginning to despair. This was bad. Something really must have happened to them or they'd have been back. Tom would have called even if Jeff was as badly off as Matt seemed to think. Especially if Jeff was sick. He couldn't see Tom just doing nothing. Sighing trying to get a more positive attitude up for Adam's sake, he brought the water, wordless.

* * *

"Man, he's really sick."

"Yeah, I had noticed that. Nice observation. Most people who're passed out on the side of the road are not too healthy." Tom was exasperated. Someone had finally come along and it was a man not much older than them and drunk as a lord from the smell of him. He watched as the man knelt next to Jeff, peered into his eyes, felt his forehead. He glanced up, Tom's sarcasm flying over his head.

"Dude, what're you gonna do? You can't just let him lay here."

Sighing resisting the urge to just punch the guy out and steal his car, Tom knelt down next to him. "I was thinking you could give us a ride into town. Maybe to the hospital."

The guy's eyes widened and he jumped up onto his feet. "No! No, no, no. No way man. I can't drive you to town. I can barely keep it on the road. I'm all fucked up! I get caught. I lose my license. I go to jail. I go back to rehab. No way!"

Tom's temper slipped another notch. "You're already driving! What's the difference?"

"I'm just driving home! It's just a little way! I can't go into town. That's it." He glanced again at Jeff whose breathing had started to sound noisy. "Man, you should sit him up. He's not breathing too good."

"No kidding." Tom slid around behind Jeff and pulled him up enough that Jeff's head was up a little. "I can't sit here like this with him all night. He's really, really sick. You can't just leave us here."

"I got to, man. No choice. I can't bring you home with me. There's all kinds of crazy shit going on there. My brother's friend's and a lot of stuff you don't want to see." He kept his eyes glued to Jeff. He did look really sick. He really couldn't leave them here. What could he do? Damn it. Why'd he go out and do this? He needed to be able to think. Squatting on his heels, he struggled to make his mind work.

Tom could feel Jeff's whole body shaking with every breath. He was losing ground fast and this man was no help at all. Frustration had begun the shift to panic again when Jeff's limp form suddenly went rigid. Jumping, he looked down horrified as another set of spasms began. The other man jumped up, indecision gone, shocked into some semblance of sobriety.

"Holy mother of God. He's havin a fucking seizure!"

Tom screamed back in his face. "I know! Why do you think he was passed out in the road! Now help us!"

Nodding shortly, the man ran to his car. "Just sit there! Don't move him. Not until it stops! I'm just making room in the back for him. I know what I'm gonna do. I know what I'm gonna do." It became a chant as he frantically worked to clear some space. He knew how to help. He knew who could help. Running back to the two others, he sat down waiting with Tom until Jeff had relaxed again. "Okay. I'm taking you to my house. I don't give a fuck what they say. I'll take him. Go get in the front."

"Don't drop him!"

"I'm not gonna drop him!" He scooped up a now limp Jeff, more or less effortlessly, and laid him on the back seat nodding at Tom's suggestion.

"Better strap him in so he doesn't fall off."

He buckled all three belts around the unconscious man, slammed the door, and jumped into the driver's seat. "Thanks for ruining my buzz, you guys." He pulled out onto the road more than careful. He had to get this guy some help and for all his shocked alertness, it was still pretty hard to drive. Thankfully, home was less then two miles away and he breathed a sigh of relief when he finally sighted his own driveway. "Look, I'm gonna bring him inside. Just stay with me and don't talk to anyone."

Tom nodded, biting back the comment that rose to his lips. No sense being snotty to someone who, no matter how messed up, was at least trying to help them. He watched intently as the man unbuckled Jeff, grimacing as he touched him.

"God, he's soaked from head to toe. What's wrong with him? Do you know?" He picked him up kicking the car door closed and headed for the front steps of an old farmhouse.

"No." Tom panted trying to keep up. "He was fine when we left. He just got really sick last night."

"Last night? You've been out all that time with him like this?" He kicked at the front door. "Come on you guys. Open the door now! NOW!" his shout roused Jeff who started to struggle a little. The man gripped him tighter. "No. Ssshhh. Don't move. It's okay." He gave the door another kick and it was suddenly wrenched open by a scruffy looking man holding a pipe.

"Brian, man, what're you…you cant bring the guys…"

The man, Brian, shoved his way through. "Shut up! Get off the phone!" he shouted over to a girl sprawled on the floor, phone at her ear. "Get of the phone now. Your call just ended! Tim, go get some towels and get 'em wet. Go now! Don't stand there like an idiot!" He set Jeff down on a futon and turned to Tom. "Listen, man, sit here with him. I'm gonna call a friend of mine. He'll come out and get you. See if you can cool him down. Man, I wish I could think."

Tom, who thought Brian was thinking a lot better than he had been, only nodded accepting the wet towels wordlessly and laying them gently over his friend.

* * *

Clark drove back out of town frustrated. He didn't need this right now. Brian's frantic call.

"C, I got a guy here. I think he's dyin' man. And I cant call the EMT's or the cops cause, well…Tim y'know. You gotta help me."

It had set his teeth on edge. Another out for Brian, he'd heard it in his voice and probably another OD. Why they didn't just tell Tim with his drugs and his women and his stolen goods to stay the hell out was beyond him. Ah well, he'd go out, evaluate the situation, get the OD whatever help he could, or call the police. Set Brian up for some more intervention and get out of there and back to the Hardy's. He'd had to leave Amanda at the door but he wanted to be there. Eyeing the cell phone, he briefly considered throwing it out the window. If his clients couldn't call him on the road perhaps he'd manage just a few times to make it from point A to point B without being rerouted.

"Six steps more," he said ruefully, "and I would've been inside and never heard the blasted thing." Sighing, he set his sights to the road ahead, eyes unconsciously cruising the sides of the road looking for a familiar rainbow head.

* * *

Matt's pleasure at Amanda's presence and his contentment in her embrace suddenly halted as the sickening sensation of his skin crawling suddenly flooded him. Grimacing and backing away, he brushed frantically at his face and arms and hands as the prickling burning itching set in deep.

"Oh, God, what is this?" his voice carried his distress clearly. "God, something's crawling on me!" His nails dug into his arms as he scratched at them attempting to eliminate the sensation. Eyes wide looking to the girls in confused horror, he felt himself starting to cry. "God, help me! What is this?"

Amanda was at his side in an instant. "What is it? Does it hurt?"

He nodded frantically, edging on hysteria. "It burns! Things are crawling on me! Biting me! It's Jeff. It's Jeff. We have to find him!" Choking on a sob, he ran into the kitchen running the water on full and shoving his hands and arms under it rubbing the water into his face as hard as he could. "Oh, it won't come off. Something's biting him!"

"Matt!" Amanda's voice was firm. "Matt, there's nothing on you! There's nothing biting anyone!"

"Yes there is!" his voice carried no hint of rationality. "They're on him! They're…" he froze then, eyes flickering madly, breathing erratic and choppy. Frozen to the spot, fists clenching and unclenching spasmodically, his eyes glazed over and Amanda saw silvery drool slip down his chin.

"Oh, my…" her voice carried mild surprise. "Trish, has this ever happened before?"

Trish's head shake was timid. "No. What do we do?"

"Wait with him. He's staying on his feet, at least." She stepped behind him wanting to be available if he should fall and immediately regretted her action. Matt's eyes suddenly cleared as the color drained from his face. Burning pain flooded his stomach and chest as nausea washed over him in waves.

Spinning around, he collided with Amanda hard enough to knock her into the counter. Stumbling almost falling, Trish caught him, his weight almost enough to take her down with him, caught her balance and led him into the small bathroom off the kitchen. In the quiet room, his head cleared a little and he looked up at her, eyes bleak as he fell against the wall sliding down to the floor.

"Oh, Trish, get out. I'm gonna be sick."

She nodded. "I know. I can see it. I'm not leaving."

Swallowing fighting it, he looked into her eyes. "It's not me, Trish. It's not me. Someone's gotta find him.

She nodded. "I know."

* * *

"How you doing? You feeling better?"

Adam heard Chris' quiet worried voice but answering was still a little beyond him. Every few minutes, tears he thought were finally under control welled up again making words impossible. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Everything had gone crazy so quickly. At least he was over the nausea. It had hit him like a brick almost as soon as they'd started riding again, so suddenly and so strongly that he hadn't even been able to speak, managing only to rather blindly hit out at Chris and gesture vaguely out the door.

Every other ounce of energy had been spent not throwing up in the car. He'd more or less fallen out the door, Chris the only thing keeping him on his feet. He'd been scared, the sickness so violent it had blacked out his vision. Chris' touch and his voice had kept him grounded, prevented panic, but he was trembling when it finally let up. Stumbling barely able to stand, he'd literally fallen into Chris, then something edging on hysteria taking over.

Tears had begun, painful and embarrassing. He hated to cry and he hated people to see him cry. Beyond his control, it had gone on and on, his friend's arm around him, soft voice in his ear. His mind had filled with images that made no sense, smells of cigarettes and alcohol, other pungent sharp edge odors he couldn't identify, loud voices and music. Heat. Wetness. What on earth was going on? It had felt like hours before the attack had ended and he'd managed to get himself under some sort of shaky control, although the reality he found had only been minutes.

Now back in the car hearing the whisper of the breeze through the open window, he heard his friend's question and couldn't answer it. Couldn't really look him in the eye. Leaning against the side to the window catching the freshness of the night air, he felt Chris' hand on his and smiled. Good friend. He was glad he wasn't alone. Eyes slipped closed, he felt himself drifting. So tired, it felt nice. Nice to just drift. Something crawled across his hand then and he brushed at it absently. Then again looking down at the sensation he suddenly had of things crawling around him. Faint but annoying, it brought him to full alertness again and he shoved Chris' hand away from him. It was making it worse. His skin felt too hot.

"Chris, could you not touch me? I just feel like things are crawling on me. It hurts kind of. I don't know. Just don't touch me."

Chris jerked his hand back alarmed. "Crawling on you? Adam, that's it." He swung the car in a U-turn and gunned the gas. "The search is over. I'm taking you home."

Adam's head jerked up, tears forgotten, and his eyes flashed. "No! I'm not going home until we find him!"

"We are not gonna find him. And you are sick, bud. You're going home. That's it."

"I'm not sick!"

"Oh, sure," Chris snorted derisively. "You throw you're guts up, sit there and cry for half and hour and now you have things crawling on you? And you're just fine right? No way. You're going home."

"Nothing's crawling on me! Chris, you can't turn around!"

Chris pulled the car over slamming on the brakes. "Adam, fact: we aren't gonna find him this way. We wont. Whether you're sick or just tired and freaked out like I am. It doesn't matter. You're all done. You've had it. You've hit your limit and so have I. Now, I'm going home and you're coming with me. This is not the way to find them!" he said blinking back his own tears. "Maybe someone at home has them."

Adam shook his head. "No, but you're right. This isnt getting us anywhere." Laughing a little, he scratched at his arm. "This is really freaky. My skin's crawling."

Eyeing him nervously, Chris pulled back onto the road and sped up.

* * *

"Get 'em off me! Get 'em off me!" Jeff's screams drowned out the music pumping from the stereo. Tom threw himself across his friend struggling to keep him on the futon as Jeff, wild eyed and frantic, dug and clawed at his face and arms fighting to get up.

"Jeff, there's nothing there! There's nothing there. It's okay."

Jeff didn't appear to hear him, eyes bugging out of his head. Guttural groans came from his throat as he desperately tried to dislodge the creatures he felt crawling on him.

"Get 'em off me. They're biting. It hurts!" One giant lunge and Tom was on the floor scrambling to his feet as Jeff launched himself off his resting place tearing at his clothes, incoherent cries replacing words.

"Easy does it. Let's find out what's going on here." A booming voice cut through Jeff's screams and he backpedaled to get away.

"No, no, no!" He ran then unable to think, blind panic taking over. There were things on him. Things biting him. Things were booming and rolling in his head. What was happening? Strong arms suddenly had him and his feet left the floor. Feeling himself caught and falling, he screamed, inflamed throat finally giving up throwing him into a coughing fit. Consciousness retreated to a pinpoint as the arms carried him into the other room.

* * *

Matt gazed dully at Adam as he let himself in. No Jeff. He'd known nobody had found him but his heart had leaped at the sound of the door regardless.

"Nothing huh, Adam?"

Adam shook his head. "No. No sign of either of them." He nodded at Amanda vaguely recognizing her and not really caring who she was. "I'm gonna go take a shower. Maybe when I come out we could go check out where you were telling us to go?" his voice didn't hold much hope and Matt strongly doubted his own ability to go anywhere but he nodded and tried to smile.

"Yeah, we can try. You okay? You look lousy."

Adam shook his head. "No, I feel like hell. I'll be out in a minute. Are Amy and Jay back yet?"

"No, they called. They're on their way. No sign of them on their end either."

"Oh." He disappeared down the hall, Chris watching.

"Man, he got really sick out there. Really sick."

Amanda nodded and pointed at Matt, who'd spaced off and was staring intently at the ceiling. "So did he. He was hallucinating or something. He said things were…"

"Crawling on him?" Chris' voice was sharp.

Surprised, Amanda nodded. "Yeah, he said things were crawling and biting him."

"So did Adam. This is so fucking weird. What is all this?"

Matt looked down then and his eyes had vagueness the other two found unsettling. "What it is, is Jeff." His gaze turned upward again. "We gotta find him soon, you guys. He's so faint now."

Amanda slapped his arm lightly. "Snap out of it, spaceboy. What're you trying to freak us out for?"

Matt smiled a little and squeezed her hand. "I'm not trying to freak anybody out." He got up then, a strange small smile still lingering on his lips. "Yell when Adam comes out. I have to go lie down or something." He wandered, eyes still glazed and dreamy, out of the room and they heard his steps on the stairs. Eyeing each other nervously, Chris and Amanda settled in to wait.


	30. Roads Chapter 30

Jeff was sure he was dying. He'd coughed until he couldn't catch his breath, choking and gagging struggling to breathe. He'd finally managed to get some air in and the gagging had turned to retching. He felt as if his entire body was turning inside out. Nausea, unrelieved though he was vomiting, washed over him wave after wave. His head buzzed sickeningly. Unable to breathe, he began to panic struggling to get away from what, he didn't know. He had to breathe.

"Take it easy, big guy, you're gonna be fine." The voice was friendly and reassuring. The hands holding him firmly were gentle. "You just calm right down. You're gonna be fine. It's just an upset stomach. That's all it is. You're gonna be fine." The words repeated over and over. Their calm tone taking the edge off. Gradually the attack faded leaving him winded and gasping and dripping with sweat feeling too weak and tired to breathe. "Looks like a bad fever. You've been out a long time haven't you?" The voice washed over him like warm water, meaning escaping but tone soothing.

Panic eased and tense muscles relaxed into strong arms. This wasn't so bad. This was okay. Was this dying? If it was, it felt nice. Sighing, he sank deeper. His vision had blurred reducing images to a hazy multicolored mist, and he stopped the struggle to keep his eyes open letting heavy lids fall.

"Oh, no, no. Wake on up now, my friend. Let's stay alert." The arms holding him close and comfortably suddenly pushed him away forcing him to sit upright. Forcing his eyes open, he focused blearily on an unfamiliar face.

"Lemme sleep, okay? Just lemme sleep." His speech was slurred, the effort of forming words making him shudder. His head felt as if it weighed a ton. "Please lemme lay down. I can't…" his head fell back a little and he struggled to hold it upright.

Shaking his head, the man frowned. Poor guy couldn't even sit up. Situating him against his shoulder, he thought hard. This guy needed more than the quick dunking in the tub he had intended to give him. The boy was really sick. He needed a hospital. Sighing, he glanced out the bathroom door. It was chaos out there, too many people and too many chemicals. Too many things going on that couldn't be seen. There was no way he could call an ambulance for the guy, not with all that was going on out there. Clark was supposed to be on his way but he doubted the guy could wait that long.

"Okay, dude, you're coming with me. We'll get you feeling better again in no time." He forced a tone of confidence he didn't really feel. "What's your name? Can you tell me that?" He shook the man gently as he picked him back up. "Come on. Don't you want to tell me? I need something to call you." He surveyed the room for a moment, gaze switching from the drugged out party to the glazed over and unresponsive eyes of the man in his arms. Mouth set in a grim line, he situated him a little more comfortably against his shoulder grimacing at the wet sticky clothes and the smell that was coming off him. There was just no choice. He had to get him out of here.

"Brian," his voice cut through the den. "I'm taking him to the ER. Get that other guy out of here. Have him call a ride. Send him with Clark. Whatever." He stopped short, feeling the man beginning to tighten up as lax muscles suddenly went taught. Realizing what was happening, he set him down gently, one hand resting on his chest watching as taughtness gave way to violent shaking, rolled back eyes, and noisy uneven breathing.

"He did that before." Brian's voice came soft in his ear. "What is it?"

The man shook his head. "I'm not a doctor. Probably the fever." His quiet tone serious, he turned his gaze to the rest of the house. "I want them out of here. Get that other guy out of here and call the cops." He nodded as he felt Jeff begin to relax again and his breathing slowed and evened out. He picked him back up again unable to repress the grimace at the mess that covered him. "God, why didn't you just bring him to the hospital to begin with, Brian?" He fished his keys from his pocket and shifted the man to a workable position. "Who is he? Do you know?"

Brian shook his head. "No, you can ask his friend though."

The man glanced at the other guy. "I don't have time for this. You!"

Tom looked up, nerves firing. "Yes?"

"What's his name?"

Tom swallowed, adrenaline rushing his system. "Jeff. Where are you taking him?"

The man ignored his question. "Call someone to come get you. Or are you sick too?"

Tom shook his head obviously too intimidated to speak.

"Okay. Call a ride." Without another word, the man strode from the house with Jeff limp in his arms.

"Are you okay?" Trish's worried voice cut through the fog in Adam's head and he looked into her eyes. Shaking his head, he spat into the bowl and climbed to his feet reaching past her for a water glass. She watched him with concern. He'd been fine stepping into the hallway shaking out shower damp hair when all of the color had suddenly drained from his face and he'd spun back into the bathroom barely in time. Now, seemingly over it, he still looked shaky. "Adam, are you okay? You never get sick like that."

He shook his head reaching for his toothbrush. "I know. That's the second time tonight. I don't know what it is."

"It's not just you if that matters." Amanda's voice floated in from the hall. "Same thing just happened to Matt. Same time as near as I can tell."

Frowning, Adam glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "Is he okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he's about like you. He keeps saying it's not him. That it's Jeff."

Adam was silent for a few moments as he finished brushing his teeth, rinsed out the sink, and put things away. Sighing, he finally turned looking at both of them. "Maybe it is. I don't think it's me. I don't feel sick. It just hits out of nowhere. I don't see how that could be though." He stepped past them out into the hall. "Are Amy and Jay back yet?"

"No, Jay called though. They're on their way."

"Yeah, I know. You already said." He hung onto the wall as he made his way downstairs suddenly too weak and shaky to stand on his own. He rounded the corner coming face to face with Matt, who stood leaning against Chris, face pale, most of his weight held by his friend.

"Adam…" his voice was a groan. "Adam, he's…uh. I can't think. My head's full of shit." He clung to Chris, eyes flickering madly.

Adam, who didn't feel much better, could only nod. "I know. I know, me too. Sit down." He fell into a waiting chair and put his head down onto the table. "I feel like I'm dying. God, you guys, what're we gonna do?" He felt a hand grip his and looked across the table at Matt, who'd fallen into his own seat. The eyes looking back at him were bleak, the hopeless stare of someone who believes there's no longer any reason.

"I don't know, Adam. I don't know what else we can do. Say a prayer?"

He jumped a little as Matt's hand, still gently resting atop his, was joined by three more. Chris, Trish, and Amanda. Sighing, he looked into each set of eyes finally nodding. At this point, prayer was all they had left.

Jeff stared in the dark as the voices and images of the people he loved faded away. He'd heard them talking, seen them looking, knew they were coming for him, but now…now he just couldn't find them.

"Please don't leave me!" The feeling was loud, his voice a whisper in his own mind. "Please don't leave me here alone!" He felt tears stinging his eyes as he watched them disappear. "Matt! Amy! Please don't leave me! Adam! Jay, I'm sorry!" Words gave way to sobs as the dark closed in around him.

The man rested his hand gently on the man's head. "Sshhh, you're okay. Nobody's leaving you." The words that were suddenly nearly shouted had scared him. The desolation in the man's voice sent a chill down his back. Now, hearing him calling for people. The calls giving way to hopeless tears. He felt his own heart breaking. "Sshhh, they're not leaving you. You're okay."

His words were unheard he knew, but he had to say something. Gently stroking the matted hair, he prayed for the first time in years, a place in him as rusty and unused as the swingset in his backyard suddenly creaking into motion. "Please," his heart sent a message he only dimly believed anyone could hear. "Let me be in time. Don't let this man die." He drove on, one hand on the wheel, on hand brushing grief stricken tears form an unknown man's face.

Amy watched the guys sleep. Whatever had been happening to them appeared to have ended. She'd walked in to find them sitting hand in hand around the table gazing blankly into space. Her questioning eyes caught Matt's attention and he'd shoved his chair back, come over to her, and thrown his arms around her. Head on her shoulder, he'd cried then harder than she'd ever known him to. It had taken what felt like forever for him to calm down enough to make words. He'd stumbled over them not really knowing what he was saying and not really caring.

"He's gone, Amy. He's gone. I can't feel him anymore. We tried to ask for help. There's nobody there. How can you pray to no one?"

She'd held him tight not even trying to answer and as she held him sobbing into her shoulder, she'd felt his strength returning. Felt him holding his own weight, felt him standing firm. When he'd finally pulled away and looked into her eyes, there was no trace of illness. Only bone deep weariness and grief. Shaking her head not knowing what to say, she'd moved to the living room curling into the corner of the couch. A moment later they had been beside her. Pallor gone, weakness vanished, they both looked fine. Strangely enough, this didn't make her happy. It struck fear deep into her soul and something in her began to tremble.

Now watching them sleep, exhaustion having overridden anxiety, she sent her own prayers to the heavens feeling much the way the others had. That there was simply nobody listening.


	31. Roads Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

A/N: Resurrecting this one. Wow it's been a long time! Sorry!

"Hey. Wake up." Something was shaking him. "Hey. Come on, you have to wake up." Tom cracked sleep crusted eyes onto an unfamiliar face. When had he fallen asleep? Where was Jeff? "Are you OK? You kinda passed out on us."

The face and voice seemed concerned. Who was this? Where was he? Puzzled, he sat up slowly, muscles aching. He let his eyes, gritty and stinging, rove around the room. Why couldn't he remember anything? The face in front of him smiled.

"You have no idea what's going on do you? You must have been really tired. We tried to wake you up so you could call a ride but you didn't even move."

Tom's head stubbornly refused to clear and he scowled. "I don't know what you're talking about. Where am I? Where's Jeff?" The only thought he could connect on. Jeff. Had to get Jeff home. "Oh, what is going on?" He felt himself beginning to tear up and bit his lip. The man next to him smiled again and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"It's OK. You just have to wake up for a minute. It'll all come back to you. You must've been dead tired. What's your name, anyway?"

Tom blinked up at him. He knew this guy. If only his mind would unfog. "Uh, Tom. I can't remember anything.."

The man nodded, smiling vaguely sarcastic. "That should be me not remembering anything. Don't you remember though? I picked you and your friend up on the side of the road."

Tom chewed on it for a moment. He did remember something. Dark, cold gravel digging into his knees. Suddenly, a flash of memory and it all came back. Eyes huge, he clutched the other man's hand panicky. "Jeff! Where's Jeff? Oh god, why did you let me go to sleep?" He jumped to his feet swaying suddenly as black spots filled his vision. Arms were around him in an instant.

"Now that wasn't too bright. You're pretty done in. Why don't you just sit down?"

Tom blinked and waited for his eyes to clear and pulled away from the man. "Why am I still here? Someone took Jeff. When did he take him? God, I have to call home!"

"Calm down. I know. We wanted you to do that last night but you passed right out. Phone's right there."

"Hold up a minute." A voice came across the room, cautious. "I don't know that that's the best idea. We don't want a lot of people driving out here. Brian, why don't you just drive him home? Where do you live?

Tom looked up and up into the eyes of the biggest man he'd ever seen. "Toronto…" His voice broke, awe stealing his words. "I live in Toronto."

The man frowned. "Long way from home, aren't you? What were you doing out on the road last night way out here?"

Tom couldn't seem to blink and his eyes began to water. "We went camping…" His voice faded away in wonder. This man must be at least 8 feet tall. "Gosh but you're tall!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he blushed, dropping his eyes. "I'm sorry."

The man chuckled. "I expect I am. Seems an odd place to go camping, especially with one of you so sick. You weren't running by any chance, were you?"

Tom shook his head frantically. "No! No, sir, no, we were just camping. We…jumped the train. It was my fault and we got lost. We were trying to get home. Where's Jeff? Is he OK?"

The man frowned, then. "I don't know anything about your friend. Why don't you let Brian here take you home?"

"But…aren't you the one who…" Tom's words were cut off as the man abruptly stood and strode from the room. "No, wait!" Tom turned desperate to Brian. "Make him come back! Go get him! What happened to Jeff?"

Brian shook his head. "I don't know. He came back here without him about 5 hours ago. He won't talk about it. I better just take you home."

"Five hours!"

Brian nodded. "Yeah, you've been out a long time. Come on. I'll take you home."

"Where did he take Jeff?"

Brian shrugged. "I don't know, to the hospital?"

"But…"

Brian spun on him then, face intense, almost angry. "Look, Tom, there's a lot going on here that you don't know about. The less questions you ask, the better. I'm sure your friend is fine. My dad took him to the ER. They'll take good care of him there but we really need to get you home."

Tom nodded, not understanding, but too tired and confused to do much but go along with it. "He's really at the hospital?"

"He's really at the hospital."

He stood up shaky. "How far is it back to Toronto?"

Brian snorted. "Almost 2 hours. You guys really hiked it. No wonder you're tired."

Tom grimaced. "That'd be why I feel like I got hit by a truck. Can I use your bathroom before we go?"

Brian nodded and pointed in the general direction of the back of the house. "Over there. Hurry up, OK?

Tom shrugged and limped off toward the door. These people were just too weird.

Corey sat out on his back steps waiting for his little houseguest to leave. He wished he'd been able to tell the guy something. There just wasn't anything to tell. And he had to get gone from here. This was no place for a stranger to be. Well, he'd go home and he'd be fine. The guy in the hospital though…

Sighing, he dropped his head in his hands. He felt terrible having left the poor guy. But there had just been too many questions he couldn't answer. Thinking back, the scene at the hospital played out in his mind.

He'd pulled in just in time for another one of those fever fits to start and had had all he could do to carry the guy through the doors. Thank God someone had come over instantly and had taken him from him. He'd turned, ready to leave immediately when the seizure had ended and the man had started to cry. Not the heartbroken sobbing he'd done in the car, not even really crying, just a keening wail that had sent chills down his back. A sound so mournful, so hopeless, he couldn't just leave him. Turning quickly, he'd followed the medical staff into the room quickly insinuating himself into the mass. They'd taken little notice of him as he stood holding the man's hand wishing he could offer some sort of reassurance. He'd crouched down there, face on an even keel with the man and talked to him, keeping his voice friendly. The boys eyes had locked with his, glazed and wild, but somehow seeing him.

"It's OK, man, they're gonna fix you up. You're gonna be fine."

He'd kept the steady patter going and the man's eyes had never left his while around them rang a steady stream of urgencies. Isolated words disjointed and unreal had floated by him. Febrile. Seizure. It had all rung in his head with the chaos of a battlefield. He'd been ignored by all but the man as his clothes were stripped off and he got a good look at the terrible struggle the man was having to breathe. Dehydration. 104, get that IV going. No air entry. He'd watched horrified as the man's entire body convulsed with the effort of drawing just one breath. So many people. So many voices. The man clutching his hand hard enough to be painful. More words, frightening in their urgency. Inspirations. Crackles. Pulse is thread. And the most frightening…the sudden voice barking…Get him in there, get him in there now!

He'd been roughly pulled away from the man, hands torn apart, watching as he was quickly taken from the room going God knew where. Turning to go then, he'd bumped headlong into a woman holding a clipboard.

"You brought him in?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"What's his name? Are you a relation?"

He'd shaken his head. "I don't know. His first name is Jeff. We're not related." Her face had taken on a puzzled and then suspicious look. "He's a friend of my brother's." The lie had come easily. "He was staying with us. He got sick…"

She'd nodded accepting that. "What's his full name please? Is anyone on their way?"

"They're out of town. What's wrong with him?"

She frowned sympathetically. "I'm sure they'll take fine care of him. Why don't you come over here and you can give me some information."

He'd gazed at her blankly then. He had no idea who the man was. What could he possibly tell her? How much trouble could he be in bringing an unknown person here? Too much too hide. He had too much to hide. He couldn't talk to these people. Now, thinking back, he realized he could have simply told her that yes, his family were en route and satisfied her. At the time though, the stress of the situation had rendered him blank and instead of answering her, he'd spun on his heels and very nearly run out of the building and back to his car.

He'd arrived home to find the party had been cleared out. His relief at this was nullified somewhat by his discovery that the other man was still here sound asleep. Exhaustion so deep nothing would rouse him. He'd spent a long time just staring at him. His guilt of leaving the other one multiplying with every moment. The rest of the night had been spent staring at the phone wondering if he should call. Wondering if he should call someone. But who? Obviously people must be worried about him. The guys both had the look of hard travel and even the man sleeping here, while not ill, was completely done in. He should call the police. No. No he couldn't. Not after all that had happened here tonight. He had no idea what might still be on premises. No, he didn't want to call the police. He couldn't do anything except get the guy out of here. Jeff was in the hospital. He was taken care of.

He dropped his head in his hands again. God help him. He just couldn't shake the guilt he felt over leaving Jeff alone there. He turned his gaze heavenward. "Well…" he addressed the clouds softly, "I hope you know what you're doing. That guy had just better pull through if you know what's good for you."

Sighing, Corey lit himself the last smoke in the pack and followed his thoughts inward.

God, it was loud in here.

Matt watched, annoyed and unexpectedly sleepy, as chaos ruled. People on the phone. People at the door. Police. Reporters. Friends. The helpful and the curious. The kind and the hateful. Too many. Just too many. Dreamy drowsiness stole over him, bizarre and incapacitating. Why couldn't he stay awake? It was just so weird. One minute he felt fine and the next consciousness was swimming away from him. Shaking his head, he turned to look at CC who was watching the insanity with mild eyed fascination. Catching Matt's eye, CC smiled.

"It's quite something, innit?"

Matt grimaced, fighting the drowsiness washing over him again and sighed. "Ceec, none of these people cared what happened before. What are they all doing here now? They're not helping…"

"Oh, Matt, nosiness is one of the great driving forces in human nature. They are here…" His voice was tinged with wry humor. "To gawk."

Matt snorted, disgusted. "They could be out helping find him. Standing around here isn't doing anyone any good." He shook his head hard and dug at his eyes. "I can't stay awake. God…I want to be doing something! Why am I just sitting here?"

"What is it you want to be doing?"

The humor had disappeared from CC's voice. Something in Matt's countenance was disturbing him. The way his eyes kept drifting up in his head. It almost looked as if he were losing consciousness every few minutes.

"I don't know. I just feel so bad sitting here." He stopped fighting another wave of sleepiness. "I feel like I'm just gonna pass out and I don't know why. It feels like my brain is trying to run out on my body." He smiled faintly knowing how he must sound. "Nap attacks or something, Ceec."

CC's brow knit. "How do you feel? Just sleepy?"

"No…" Matt paused trying to find a good description. "It's more like…I get really really sleepy all of a sudden. My head gets all swimmy. My heart starts beating real fast. I get all shaky and then it's gone. It feels really really weird."

CC nodded and slid closer to him gently capturing Matt's wrist in his fingers. A few seconds later he felt it. The sudden acceleration of his pulse. Just a few seconds long. Glancing up, he saw brown eyes drifting upward, forcibly pulled back down as Matt shook himself fighting to stay awake. He let him go and sighed. "That's stress doing that, Matt. It's just an anxiety reaction. It actually happens to a lot of people in extreme situations."

"Stress? So what do I do about it?"

"Well, you could go lie down and see if you can sleep."

Matt scowled at him, a deep crease forming between his brows. "I am not gonna go sleep while my little brother is out there dying somewhere. Which one of us is supposed to be nuts here?"

"Well, why don't you just remove yourself for a little while? Go read or write in that journal you're always buried in. Just go get away from it for a little while."

Sighing, thinking that there was no way he'd ever be able to concentrate on anything, Matt shoved his chair out. "I'm gonna try it only because you haven't steered me wrong yet but I'm telling you, I'm not gonna be any good for anything."

"You don't have to be. Just get yourself out of the middle of it for a few."

Nodding, Matt reached down and lightly brushed his friend's shoulder. "Ceec, don't take off OK?"

"No worries. I'm here for as long as it takes."

Faint smile then and a nearly inaudible 'thanks' and Matt slipped from the room. His departure noted by none but CC.

A/N: Very saddened by the retirement of Edge. He was the reason I started watching WWE back in 2000 and he's been my favorite ever since then! Thank you Edge!


	32. Roads Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

"No, Matt, not that one. Look." Matt smiled at Tom's boy, Davey, as he corrected him yet again. He was so out of it he couldn't even figure out Lego's but still surprisingly, he was a lot more relaxed. Davey's cheerful chatter and the rather mindless task of snapping the blocks together had dulled the anxiety he'd been feeling. He had actually felt himself calming down. Now, as he saw what he'd been about to do, his gentle smile became a laugh.

"Oh, uh, Davey, I guess that wouldn't have worked, would it? Here…" He shoved the blocks over to the little boy. "You go ahead and do it. I'll just watch." Davey nodded, absorbed.

"You can…" he pointed to the huge pile of multisided, many colored bricks, "unmix those."

"Unmix them?"

"Yeah, you know. Put the colors together for me."

"Oh. Lazy aren't you?"

"No, but you can be my," he paused, unable to think of the word he wanted. "You can just do that for me."

Matt smiled again. "Assistant, Davey?"

A vague nod, "Yeah, that. Go ahead."

Shaking his head, still smiling, Matt set about doing as the little boy had asked, marveling at how absorbing the task was. "Geez, Davey, maybe I should go into factory work, just keep putting the pieces where they go."

"Hmmm." was the absent response prompting another chuckle. The kid was just too into this stuff. The smile lingered on his lips as he continued sorting the blocks, his mind for once quiet ignoring the continuous rumble of voices from the next room.

Amy walked by the room glancing in surprised to see Matt. "Oh, how sweet." The thought drifted through her mind. It had been ages since she'd seen Matt have anything to do with anyone and Davey really needed someone to keep him company right now. So, she thought, did Matt. Smiling, she'd begun to step away when her eye lit on the camera on the hall table. Quietly, she picked it up. This was one of those fleeting moments she didn't like to let go. Stepping into the doorway, she didn't speak, simply pointed the camera at the two boys and pressed the button. The flash went off startling them into looking up and she saw in that split second Matt's small smile slip into caution and suspicion. He blinked, trying to focus with flash blinded eyes and she laughed.

"Oh, sweetie I'm sorry. I should have warned you but you just looked so sweet."

He nodded but the look of unease on his face seemed to set. "It's okay. You just blinded me a little bit." He turned back to what he had been doing but now his heart was racing and that dark dreamy drowsiness began to creep over him again. Damn it. He sighed, frustrated. He'd been feeling so much better. His thoughts were interrupted when the corner of his vision caught motion and he looked up into the lens of the camera again. Almost before he could register what he was seeing, something deep inside, something animal and instinctive took over and he was on his feet and across the room away from the camera. Away from the person behind it.

"No, don't! Don't. Just put it away. Just get away from me!"

Amy jumped, dropping the camera and moving quickly to Matt who stood breathing hard and shaking in the corner of the room. "Baby, what is it? What's wrong?" her voice, sympathetic and concerned, only seemed to make it worse and his strained words became shouts.

"Don't touch me! Get away from me!" he shrank away from her pulling himself against the wall as her hands reached for him. Puzzled, she stepped back and he bolted by her to collide with Clark, who heard the shouts and came to find out what was wrong.

"Whoa, hold on now." His voice was calm, hands firm, as he caught Matt running by and held him gently in place. "What's going on?"

Matt's eyes, wild and incoherent, stared blankly and his breath rasped in and out in harsh gasps. "Let me go! Let me…" he stopped suddenly staring at nothing and Clark glanced at Amy.

"What…"

"I don't know." Her voice was helpless. "I took his picture and he just went crazy."

"Matt!" Clark's voice was loud and direct. "Matt, look at me." The blank brown eyes flitted up to his then away. "Matt!" he gave him a little shake not liking for one moment the vague look in his eyes.

"What, C, what? Cut it out!" Matt pulled away, blankness replaced with irritation. "What happened? Why were you yelling at her like that?"

Matt glanced at Amy and then at the camera on the floor and Clark saw him pale a little. "I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry. Just don't take my picture anymore." He shoved past Clark, puzzled himself as to what had just happened. Why had he gone off like that? "God…" his whisper went unheard to all but himself. "I really am crazy." He clung to the wall, legs shaking too much for him to dare let go and went back into the kitchen dropping into a chair at the table and laying his head in his hands. He looked up once when Clark sat down then wearily closed his eyes and put his head down onto folded arms. He just couldn't take it anymore.

Clark was worried. Badly worried. He had no idea what had just happened although the sensation of a little voice behind his mind wouldn't let him go. He had the feeling he was just missing something if only he knew what it was. Whatever it was, he had to do something about Matt. The guy looked about to blow. He was under a lot more pressure than he could hold up under.

"Matt."

"Hmm?" Matt didn't look at him, instead focusing intently on the pattern on the table cloth tracing it with the pad of one finger.

"Get your shoes on. You need to get out of here."

Matt shook his head, face still impassive, gaze still focused on the table.

"No, no no, Ceec, I can't leave. Not until they find him."

"Yes, you can and you will. Now go get your shoes on."

"CC!" his voice was a growl now. "I am not gonna leave! Don't you understand?"

"I understand this is beginning to cave you in. You won't be any use to anyone if you fall apart. I'm not asking you to go to the Andes and stay for a month. I'm telling you to get your shoes and we're gonna drive around the block or something until you get yourself together."

"I'm together."

"Right. Get your shoes."

Matt sighed, finally looking up and Clark saw tears in his eyes. "I really want to get out of here, Ceec, but what if something happens?"

Sympathy flooded Clark then, looking down into Matt's eyes. This poor guy had had more than his share of tough breaks. This was beyond unfair. He leaned down and hugged him quickly. "Matt, I'll take the cell phone with me. If anyone finds out anything they can call pronto.

"We'll come right back?"

"Without question. Trust me. You need to get away from here."

Sighing, Matt dragged himself from the table. "Okay, but you promised." He headed upstairs and Clark let his gaze shift out toward the front door. So many people, what a zoo it was. He could see Jay on the phone. Had he put that phone down in the last several hours? Clark didn't think so. Amy. Where was she? There she was. Talking to the police. Perfect, that should add to her stress. He reflected on the remarkable incompetence of the police department so far. They were treating it like the whim of hysterical, over protective parents. The guys had taken camping gear and hit the road. They'd be back. There was no reason to think anyone was in trouble. Well, Clark understood their point but he also understood following you gut. And his gut told him they needed to find them fast. He was gently shaken from his reverie by a light touch on his hand. Pulling away slightly, he looked back at Matt. Unlike him to be touchy.

"Things okay? You ready?"

"Yeah."

Matt's voice was weary. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Sighing, he stood up fishing for his keys. "Okay." Clark had a hard time keeping the dubious tone at bay. "Let's go." They'd gone as far as the back steps when Amy stopped them.

"It's okay, you're gonna be fine, big guy." That voice. Thank God. Too bright, too loud, pulling, tugging. What was going on? Jeff's world was confusion. Heat and cold and pain.

"Stop it. Stop it. I'm dizzy," the thought never left his mind. So many voices all talking at once. He couldn't understand any of them. Panic started to crest and then that voice. Strong and low and soothing. Familiar. Struggling against light that hurt his eyes and never ending crashing noises ripping his head apart. He located the voice and turned his eyes to the man's face right there, gray eyes capturing his. He let those eyes hold him as his mind focused on the voice. What was he saying? No matter. Didn't matter. It was just there. Warm, flowing over him, counteracting the surrounding insanity. Why were they all yelling? It hurt his head. Didn't they know how much it hurt? God, it hurt to breathe.

"Little stick now, hon."

What? What? Who was that? Something jabbed his arm. Nothing compared to the enormous pain in his chest but the man's grip on his hand tightened. What was he saying? He squeezed the man's hand wanting to ask him to stay. Words beyond his grasp. Things seemed to be jumping around, flashes of vision and understanding. God, what was going on? Cold. So cold. What were they doing? He pulled a little on the man's hand wanting to bring him closer, startled suddenly by a bright flash of light and sudden gripping pain everywhere. Pain. Screaming pain. No breath. God he couldn't breathe! Voices suddenly raised and shouting. The man's hand ripped away from his as the world suddenly lurched in his sights. The figure of the man, tiny, swallowed in blackness, gone along with the rest of the world.

"No. No way. I'm not doing that. No."

Matt was emphatic. "I'm going with CC and that's all. I'm not going to have anything to do with this."

Amy's lips were tight. This was no time for him to be obstinate. "Matt, we're all…"

"NO!" He pulled away from the hand she'd set on his shoulder. "I can't deal with that and I'm not going to!" He backed away staring at her for a moment as if wondering if he were going to be allowed to get away with talking to her that way and then quickly slipped out. A few seconds later they heard the slam of Clark's car door. Helpless, Amy turned to Clark who only shook his head.

"Press conference is pretty stressful, Amy. If he's not up to it, I wouldn't push it. I'm amazed he's even willing to leave the house."

"It's not really a press conference just a statement."

"Is it really necessary that he be here?"

She hesitated and he pressed on.

"Why would it be? Don't push him. Not now. He's on very thin ice."

She sighed, shooting an annoyed glance after Matt. "WHY, Clark, is he on such thin ice? What exactly are we doing wrong, still?" shaking her head, she didn't give him time to answer. "We've done everything in our power and he still acts as if he'll come undone at any moment. It's, very frankly, getting on my nerves. I really think that with all that's going on now, Matt needs to get his act together and stop acting so ridiculous."

He studied her quizzically. "Do you really think that? Do you think it's in his control?"

She shook her head. "I don't know what to think. I just don't know. He just about had a psychotic attack over having his picture taken. He's spent the entire last 24 hours insisting he can leave the house and now he's running out the door. I don't know. Just get him out of here. The less I have to look at him right now, the better."

Sighing, feeling badly for all of them, Clark gave her hand a brief squeeze and let himself out. Something she'd said was starting those unsettling little bells in his mind again. 'Psychotic attack over having his picture taken…can't leave the house…running out the door…' Oh where was it? It was right there. What wasn't he seeing? Shaking his head, annoyed with himself, he opened the driver's door and looked at the man already in the passenger seat. His face was tight and pale and his eyes were frightened.

"Matt, you alright?"

He nodded, shortly. "Yeah, let's just get out of here."

Nodding, Clark turned the key.


	33. Roads Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

* * *

"Didn't I just leave this place?" Karen's thought was ruefully amused. She spent more time here at the hospital than she did at home lately. God knew she needed the extra money and they surely needed the extra hands but damn it, she was tired. Still, it was hard to say no and they'd sounded pretty frantic when they'd called her. As she headed for her floor, she reflected on her schedule. "All day and then back for a full night. I sure hope I don't fall asleep on rounds." Smiling to herself, knowing she'd do no such thing. She swung into the break room grabbing herself a coffee and hoping she'd actually have time to drink it for a change. They had a private they needed help with. It was a rarity in these days of short staffing to spare a pair of hands for a private. Curiosity peaked. She sipped her coffee and headed for the desk.

Tracy, the night charge nurse in the ICU greeted Karen as she arrived carrying her coffee.

"Morning, Karen. We're so glad you were able to come in and do this private for the day shift. They're swamped. Like that's anything new. Of course by the time we get back in tonight, all will be quiet. Doesn't it figure?" She smiled at Karen and picked up a chart. "Here's what we got for you. You ready?" Karen nodded, slightly more focused on her coffee than on Tracy. "Patient is a young adult male. We're unsure of his age..."

Karen's attention was suddenly sharply directed. Unsure of his age?

"…but figure he's in his early twenties. All we know name-wise is Jeff. He was brought in and literally left at the door by an unknown male. On…"

"Left at the door?" Karen interrupted, surprised. "What do you mean 'left at the door'?"

"I mean he was dropped off in the ER and the man who left him took off before he told anyone a damned thing."

Karen scowled thoughtfully and waved her pen in the direction of Tracy's chart. "Continue."

Tracy's eyebrows went up and she grinned. You had to love Karen. "Thanks, I think I will. On arrival, he was running a temp of 104 and was seizing sporadically. Air entry was nonexistent in both lower lobes with expiratory wheezes and crackles heard in the upper lobes. Admission diagnosis is pneumonia. He wasn't able to take a breath without working hard at it. He was obviously in a lot of pain. He had vomited before arrival but hasn't since. He was dehydrated. His skin turgor was poor. His eyes sunken and dull. His level of consciousness hasn't changed since admission. He's nonverbal. Responsive only to pain. He hasn't opened his eyes since the start of the last seizure at about 4 AM. Poor guy looks like he's been dragged through a bush backwards. We haven't been able to get him cleaned up at all and he's a mess. We just got him about an hour ago. We've had him in the cooling pads. His temp has come down to 102. He'll likely be down to about 100 in another couple of hours. He's been catheterized. His output has only been 100 cc's since 430. His IV is running at 100 and he's received Penicillin and Codeine. Check the drug sheet for time of last dose, OK? We gave him Tylenol PR and he's due at 900 for another. The emergency MD gave him some Thorazine but we haven't repeated it. He hasn't been shivering but we have the order if you need it. ECG hasn't shown any blips, thank God. Just keep an eye on his rhythms and pulse rate. Respirations are still high but that won't change. Not until he coughs some of that crud up out of his lower lobes. Cough is still dry and nonproductive and obviously hurts. That's the only time we see a change in facial expression. Um…what else?"

Karen sipped her coffee, scribbling notes as she listened to Tracy's rambling report. "Hmm," she spoke without looking up."I'm glad he's stable now. He was one sick puppy. How's his blood work look?"

"White cells elevated."

She nodded. "Like that's a surprise. You don't know anything more about him? No age, no name, no family?"

"No, not a thing."

"Well." She scanned the chart briefly as she thought about the day ahead, mentally planning her tasks. "I think that's about it. I'll get over to…" She glanced back down at the file, "Jeff?"

"Yep, Jeff."

"How'd you find that out?"

"Guy that dumped him down there. He evidently blurted out 'his name's Jeff,' and ran off."

"Oh. Well, I'll get down there and take a look at him. See you tonight, Tracy. Bring some of that coffee cake in, OK?"

Tracy laughed, "You can have all the coffee cake you want, Karen. You'll need it. I don't know how you do it, hon. Working a day shift. Sleeping for a few hours and coming back in for a 12 hour night. I wish I was young again. Thanks again for helping them out. They'll have 3 fresh post-ops by noon. They have their hands full. Make sure they appreciate you, OK?"

Karen laughed, "They have no choice but to appreciate me if they know what's good for them." As she headed to Jeff's bed, she thought about Tracy's comment. 'I wish I was as young as Tracy thinks I am. I'm gonna feel every one of my 46 years and then some by tomorrow morning.'

Quietly, she approached the bed holding the sick man. Arms folded, she stood for a moment taking him in. Yep. He sure did look like he'd been pulled through a bush backwards. What was that in his hair? Pine needles? What had he been doing? Sighing, she turned her attention to the machines surrounding his bed. Everything looked OK and the drug sheets gave her 2 hours before any meds were due. 'Good,' she thought, 'Enough time to clean him up a bit. He looks like he's been living outdoors for a week!'

She gathered her supplies and got a basin of lukewarm water wondering all the while who he was and why nobody was here with him. Didn't he have a family? Was he a runaway? Shaking her head, she set her supplies down, speaking softly.

"Jeff, my name is Karen. I'm just going to wash you up a little bit." Gently she cleaned his face, wincing to herself as she found and cleaned a multitude of small superficial scratches, scrapes, and bruises. His hands were just as bad and she found herself becoming annoyed as she removed a few small splinters.

'Damn emergency staff. You'd think they could spare a few minutes to make him a little more comfortable.' As soon as she thought it, she caught herself and mentally apologized to the busy ER nurses. From the look of him, they'd had plenty to worry about besides some dirt and a couple of splinters. 'I have plenty of time to do it now,' she thought. As she worked, she talked softly to Jeff about the weather, the vacation she had just finished, her family, even asking him about his family though she knew he wouldn't answer. She firmly believed in the power of speech and knew that he heard her on some level. She chatted quietly wishing she knew more about him and grateful she wasn't at a loss for words.

"Hon, what on earth have you been doing? Digging ditches?" she chided him gently as she changed the water in the basin for the third time marveling at the amount of dirt in it. Still though he looked like he'd been living hard, but she could tell he was well cared for. He was by no means underweight and he had none of the look of neglect she'd unfortunately come to recognize. She finished up the bed bath and set to work gently removing the pine needles from his long hair.

"You could sure use a shampoo, sweetie, but I think we'll worry about that later." She changed his hospital gown for a fresh one. She turned him onto his side slightly, warming some lotion in her hands and gently rubbed his back. The excess lotion she used on his arms and legs, thinking that while he probably didn't much need the lotion, the touch was good for him. She wished he were a little more responsive. During the whole procedure, he had barely moved except to cough a few times, weakly, and obviously painfully. The effort making him wince. She stepped back, finished with her ministrations, eyeing him critically.

'Well,' she thought, 'He looks more comfortable now, anyway.' She checked the machinery surrounding the now clean man, gave him the medications he needed and settled into the rocker beside his bed to do her charting.

* * *

"You doing OK, Matt?" CC glanced at the man next to him. He'd said not a word and had remained completely expressionless as they drove from the house. CC had expected him to at least comment on the lack of press standing around but there hadn't been a peep out of him. Now, several miles and half a dozen songs on the radio later, that stone faced silence began to unnerve him. As had Matt's lack of response. "Matt?" his voice raised a notch. "Would you answer me please? Are you OK?"

Matt sighed, then, tearing his gaze from the hypnotic peace of the passing roadside. "I don't know, Ceec, just drive."

"What's on your mind?"

"You leaving me alone.

Surprised at the rudeness, CC's eyes flew to his companion. "That was pretty uncalled for, Matt. Really…"

Matt sighed, but shook his head offering no apology. "Ceec, I don't want to talk." He turned his attention back out the window and CC, knowing he'd been dismissed, reached down and turned the radio up.

* * *

A mumble from the bed brought Karen's attention from the care plan she was writing back to her charge. His brow was knit, face scrunched into a frown. Smiling slightly, she set down her pen and moved closer to the bed reaching out to gently brush an errant lock of hair from his face.

"It's alright, Jeff…" her voice was just above a whisper. She gently lifted the O2 mask from his face, frowning at the red imprint it had left. "Everything's OK." Her soft voice and gentle touch smoothed the furrowed brow and he turned his face toward her slightly, pressing his face against her hand. She heard a gentle whimper then. "Oh, sweetie, it's alright."

She noted that his skin against her hand was cooler and eyed the temperature readout. 100 degrees. Much better. Time perhaps, to stop the cooling pads. She hoped so. She hated the things. Part of her always longed to throw a blanket over them and cozy them in. Add to that the condensation that always kept the sheets they were laying on slightly damp and you had a sum total of utter discomfort. Still, they served their purpose. Better to be chilly and damp than seizing and hallucinating. Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she loosened the elastic and replaced the mask gently stroking his hair and noting again the way he turned toward her hand. The boy seemed hungry for contact. Smiling, she obliged him for a few minutes, stroking his hair and holding his hand, squeezing it softly.

"It's OK, Jeff…" her voice was a murmur. "You're gonna be fine sweetie. You'll wake up soon." As her touch increased, tensed muscles relaxed and his frown gave way to peacefulness. Satisfied that he was sleeping easily again, she noted the temp reduction on his chart and headed down the hall to report to the charge nurse.

* * *

Matt shivered and hugged his arms around himself. Cold in here. Did CC have the AC on? Nope, no AC. Damn it was cold. Life just got better and better. Sighing, he turned back out the window but for some reason the glazed oblivion he'd enjoyed wouldn't come to him. His mind was working now. He wished it would stop. With every thinking moment adrenaline flooded him, a tingly high sickening sensation he'd have cheerfully slit his own throat to end. He'd had about enough. Thoughts of suicide had never entered his head before and he was mildly alarmed to find them there now. Surely he'd never do something like that. That didn't mean he wouldn't hurt someone else though. Look at what had happened with Amy today. He'd been so close. And Sandra Elliot. He'd almost hit her. And Danny. And then of course, Jeff. Poor Jeff. Sighing, Matt looked over at CC. He knew why CC was here. He had no illusions of friendship or any genuine affection. He knew. CC was paid to be there. CC was paid to pick his brain and find out what was wrong with him. And because they paid him, Matt was supposed to trust him. Ha! You couldn't trust anyone. Especially people who were in it for the money. How many times had he been left to the attentions of people he was supposed to be able to trust? And how many betrayals? Even his friends wanted nothing to do with him. How could they expect him to trust some guy that was just here because it paid his mortgage? His mind threw him back into a memory; his body wad pain numbed and exhausted lying on the stairs. Blood running from his scalp where she'd ripped his hair from his head. Her voice screaming at him to get out. Chris breaking his hands, slamming them into the counter. No! That was a dream! A dream, God help him. He didn't even know what was real anymore.

A hand on his neck, something cold and sticky and then the hand in his hair. Twisted, firm, he couldn't get away. Breath in his ear.

"You're so much more photogenic than your brother. Come with me. Trust me."

No that hadn't happened! God, he was losing his mind!


	34. Roads Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I do not own any WWE superstars or the WWE.

CC heard a gasp from the seat next to him and a whimper. His glance took in Matt, hands pressed against his eyes. Such utter distress CC had ever seen on any face. Quickly he pulled the car over and turned to look at the man careful to avoid physical contact. Whatever was going on here, he wasn't going to assume touch was safe.

"Matt, what is it?" Matt ignored him, hands moving from his face to his hair, fingers twining into it. "Matt…" CC gently reached for one of his hands. "Matt, don't do that. Tell me what's happening."

Matt ripped his hand away avoiding CC's grasp pulling out a fair amount of his own hair in the process. CC winced seeing blood begin to flow but noted that the pain seemed to have snapped him back to some sort of reality. Staring in horror at the handful of hair he held, Matt quickly shook it out of his hand onto the floor and turned finally toward CC.

"CC, I'm scared." His voice was soft, the words drifting out on a breath. CC nodded.

"I can see that. Can you tell me what you're scared of?"

Matt's eyes filled with tears then. Tears he seemed unaware of. "I'm gonna hurt someone. Hurt myself. I don't know. I don't…" his voice broke.

"Matt, why do you think that?"

Matt shook his head. "You don't care. Why should I tell you? You're here because they're paying you. You don't care anymore than the rest of them do."

CC's eyes widened at that. Matt didn't know? Laughing suddenly, almost bitterly, CC broke his own rule and reached out taking Matt's head in his hands turning his face toward himself. "Matt." His raised voice and firm touch, rather than panicking the man, seemed to freeze him and CC went on. "I am not getting one cent for this. Where did you ever get the idea that I'm being paid? I, Matt, am off the clock." He let him go then and reached into his pocket for a smoke.

Matt's mind was shrieking at him, senseless mindless babble that wouldn't stop. He'd lost all sense of reality of time, of what was relevant and what wasn't. The cigarette. No that was wrong. "You're not supposed to smoke around me."

CC laughed, showing his teeth. "Ask me," flick of the lighter, flame, smoke, "if I care." Why was he doing this?

"I'm sorry. Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you." Yes he was. They all were. It hadn't been his fault. So they'd told him not to go off alone. So what? He'd been right outside; it wasn't like he'd gone anywhere. Was it his fault it had happened? He'd been minding his own business. Why were they all still so mad about it?

"CC, it wasn't my fault!" his shout startled CC, who hadn't been sneering, had simply been smoking his cigarette and waiting for Matt to sort himself out.

"What wasn't you fault, Matt?"

Matt shook his head. His shout had startled him too and the sea of sound in his head had started to fade a little. What had he been thinking? He didn't know. He shook his head. "Can't remember." His voice was deep, guttural, and CC's eyes widened.

"I really think it's time to get you home, my friend." He kept his tone mild but inside he felt anything but. Whatever was in there, whatever had been snowballing on this man was right there. He didn't want him trapped in a car when it finally hit.

"No. No, not yet. CC…" Matt paused taking a breath. "CC, I'm really scared. I don't know what's going on. I…" he stopped again, words backing up in his throat. "I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt someone. You saw…"

CC nodded. "Yes, I did. Do you mind if we drive though?"

"I don't wanna go home." He was calming visibly and CC began to feel a little more flexible. "No, I understand but I'd like to keep moving." Matt nodded and CC went on. "What happened today, Matt? What made you freak out on Amy like that?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I almost know but…" he sighed then and slumped down in his seat. "I just lost it hard, just now, didn't I?"

CC smiled a little. "Yes, you did. Any idea why?"

"Because I'm crazy?" Matt's smile was faint but it was there. Shaking his head, CC made a face at him and flicked the cigarette out the window.

* * *

"How's he doing?" Karen smiled at Doreen and gently brushed Jeff's hair out of his face.

"He's doing better. Temp's holding steady at 100 degrees, DC'd the cooling pads, the ECG, the Tylenol PR. His LOC is up a little. He's dreaming, moving around. Looks pretty good." She absently flung Jeff's chart at her coworker and pulled out a basin quickly assembling the makings of a bed bath.

"What are you doing?

Karen smiled gently. "He's damp and chilly. The bed's all wet from the pads."

Doreen chuckled again. Karen must be reveling in this. The time to really take care of him and pay attention to the little things. A luxury for both nurse and patient. She watched as Karen expertly washed him up and replaced the gown. Karen was a good nurse. Her touch was gentle and efficient. 'She'd be the one I'd want taking care of me,' the older woman thought, watching as Karen started to turn the man on his side to pull the sheet from beneath him.

"Why don't you sit him up?"

Karen stopped, eyeing her. "What?"

"Get him off his back for a minute. Be good for his breathing."

"Dori, he's asleep."

"You don't need to wake him up. Here…" She stepped into Karen's space. "Just sit right down there and pick him up. I'll do this. Be good for him to change positions and you're dying to hug him. I can see it in your eyes, 'mom'."

"Oh stop."

"Just sit down there on the end of the bed." Karen did as Dori suggested. A nurse of the 'old school', Dori was known for dismissing modern techniques and using what she called the 'tried and true'. 'Get him off his back' was definitely among her old school teachings. Smiling slightly, Karen slipped the O2 mask over his head, reached under his arms, and pulled him up against her. For just a moment, his eyelids fluttered and she caught a flash of green eyes. A soft mumble and his arm went around her neck, head resting against her shoulder.

"There's a nice response there." Doreen's face was triumphant as she quickly pushed the damp sheet toward Karen. Karen smiled and closed her eyes for a moment content to let Doreen handle the mechanics of changing the bed, enjoying the feel of the man she held in her arms. Again the thought occurred to her. Who was he? Why had nobody been here? Why had nobody called? 'He's so responsive to touch' she thought, gently rubbing his back. He's certainly no stranger to physical affection. He's so obviously well cared for. Someone, somewhere must be frantic over him. Where in the hell are they? Sighing, she looked back at Doreen who had finished with her end of the bed and was standing there grinning.

"Okay, mom, as soon as you're ready to give him up let's lie him back down here and do that end. Unless of course you were gonna try to pick him up right out of the bed."

Karen laughed softly, used to Doreen's teasing. "I think he's a little bit big to sit in my lap, Dori!" Before she could move though, she was surprised when, the rainbow head resting on her shoulder pulled back and she found herself staring into sleepy green eyes. He look at her for a moment, swallowing, wincing as if it hurt him, and finally ventured a few words.

"Who're you?" his voice was raspy, barely there, but still he was awake.

"I'm Karen, honey, who're you?"

He looked at her for a moment longer, solemn and sleepy, then settled against her again, head on her shoulder. His mumbled, "I'm Jeff," was a breathy whisper, already drifting down into sleep. Eyes wide, she glanced at Doreen who was smiling as she reached to help lay him back down. The settled him and turned him on his side. Quickly checking the IV line making sure it was free of tangles, Karen moved to help Doreen finish the bed making sure to remove the cooling pads. The Doreen gathered up the old linens and left the room nodding absently at Karen's thanks. A few moments later she came back in bearing a sheet and a light flannel blanket.

"Here you go. He cleans up nice, doesn't he? Nice looking boy. Could use a haircut though." Karen grinned

* * *

"You'll be alright?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, but you won't be."

"Why's that?" CC's voice was puzzled.

Matt smiled and pointed to the cash in CC's hand. "Those things'll kill ya. You're better off just getting back in the car and forgetting about 'em."

CC snorted. "You," he shut the door behind him and leaned in the window, "are so obviously not a smoker. You sure you don't want to come in?"

"I'm sure. Just hurry up."

Sighing, CC held up a hand. "Five minutes. Come get me if you get too stressed."

"Yeah, go. Go!" Matt turned the radio up and settled back. He was scared but it felt safe here with CC. He wasn't sure why. Despite the nasty things he'd said, he knew inside where it counted that CC really did care. He had a friend here and one who could help if he only knew how to let him. CC had told him time and time again that he wasn't crazy. That whatever it was that he couldn't remember would come out and then they would deal with it. It was so hard now though. Even the flashes were gone. He was just as glad, that had been damned scary. Thinking back sent chills down his spine and he looked out at the sunshine suddenly needing to be in it. He was scared again remembering how he'd thought about killing himself and wondering if there was any chance that he would actually do such a thing.

'So out of control, this is bad,' the thought floated through his mind as he stepped from the car into the warmth and light. Stretching, he leaned back against the car shutting his eyes and letting the warmth bathe his face. Red glow behind his eyelids. So long since he'd seen that. Had it really been so long since he'd been in the sun? Felt nice. Maybe there really was a reason to go on.

"Excuse me!"

He jumped, startled from his reverie by the bright perky voice. "Uh yeah?" His eyes rested on the form of a young girl. Great. She smiled nervously and giggled.

"Um, are you Matt Hardy?"

His eyes darted to the doorway of the store. Where was CC? "Yeah, yeah I am." He moved to get back into the car but the girl stopped him reaching out to touch his hand.

"I'm Ellie, I wondered…" She stopped taken aback as he yanked his hand away from hers. "I'm sorry." She glanced nervously into his face and he shook his head.

"It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm just…I don't like to be touched too much. I know, not good." He laughed a little but it sounded forced even to his own ears. She smiled again.

"Well, I'm a really big fan and I wondered if you'd mind signing an autograph?"

Sighing he nodded, knowing he had to but wishing more than anything that the girl would just go away. That CC would come out. That anything would happen to get her away from him. His nerves were starting to fire up and he seriously doubted his ability to hold it together. He scribbled his name onto the paper she'd handed him and handed it back silently ignoring the bright chatter she was directing at him. Where in the hell was CC? Sighing, smiling blankly at her, he reached for the car door when a sudden flash blinded him. Spinning back to face her, his hand flashed out before his mind registered what he was seeing, sending the camera flying from her hand to crash down onto the pavement. Before she could react his hand had gripped her wrist hard, small bones grinding together. Her cry of pain escaped him as his vision clouded. The girl, the parking lot, the car replaced suddenly by another scene. Flashes in his mind as he gripped her wrist, too fast to focus on. Shadows, laughter, Jeff dancing in the sun, cameras, CAMERAS! Yanking hard on her hand his voice raised to a shout.

"Get it away from me! Do you understand? Get it away from me!"

"Matt!" the voice startled him into releasing his grip. "Matt, get in the car!" CC's voice was loud but it held no anger. "Get in the car, now!" He took him by the shoulders and shoved him none too gently into the passenger seat slamming the door behind him. He turned to the girl who stood in stunned silence.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

As the shaken girl tried to tell him, his attention wavered between the two. Matt was shaking. He could see it from out here and the girl wasn't much better off. Well, Matt was in the car. He was fine. He turned his full attention to the girl examining her wrist.

"You'll have quite a bruise there. He just grabbed you?" She nodded, eyeing the car suspiciously. "Do you know why? What were you doing?"

"I…I took his picture and he just freaked out! God, I never…he just knocked my camera right out of my hand!"

CC held up a hand stopping her. "Was he okay until you took out the camera? Did he give you a hard time? Was he rude or anything?"

She shook her head. "No, he signed an autograph, he just…" tears started welling in her eyes then and CC slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"What's your name?"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Ellie."

"Ellie, I want you to write down your name and your phone number. I think we should talk but I need to take him home. Ellie…" he stopped, his gaze going again to Matt brooding in the car. "He's been sick. He didn't mean this." She nodded, not sure what to think and CC smiled gently at her. "We'll pay for the camera. I'll be getting in touch with your parents, alright?"

She nodded anxious now only to get away. She handed him her name and number written on the back of the autograph she'd asked for and took off, nearly running. CC watched her go, and then climbed into the car with Matt.


End file.
